Shadows of the Past (Part One)
by SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: Things were hard for Spencer after the events in Georgia, but just when it looked like he was healing, something happened and the young genius shut down completely. So his friends call in the only person that might be able to help. Spencer's friend and father figure-Logan. Warnings: Violence, Non-con, drugs, slash
1. Chapter 1

_I don't know how plausible it is for Logan to have known Spencer since he was a child, but it's what I chose. Be gentle with this fic! This is pretty much the first fic EVER that I wrote in this fandom mixture and I've only recently revamped it and it's still not quite perfect lol_

* * *

It hurt Logan to watch as Spencer climbed off the bike. Almost instantly the younger man seemed to shrink in on himself. His shoulders hunched and his chin dropped down while his arms wrapped around his waist. He was curling into himself; it was almost like he was holding himself together, like he would break apart if he didn't. The thought terrified Logan more than he would care to admit. Spencer had always been the kind of person to hold things in, always seeming to carry so much more under the surface than most. But he'd also always had this silent strength to him. No matter how many times he'd been knocked to the ground and stomped on, he always found a way to get back up. Now, that strength was gone. Watching him, Logan's thoughts turned morose. _The kid looks like a strong breeze would blow him away. He's lost too much weight and there're too many shadows under his eyes. Hell, _in_his eyes too. It was a good plan to bring him here. He needs this. He needs to get away and heal. I just hope like hell he _can_heal from this, whatever it is._

"Come on, brat. Let's get inside." Logan told him in a gentle growl.

Spencer nodded at him. "Ok, _Pater._" He murmured. That was another clue to how broken down Spencer was inside. He only ever called Logan 'Pater' when he was hurting or being sweet. It was Latin for 'Father', a title he'd given the feral years upon years ago when a grown man and a young child had met and bonded together.

With a gentle touch, Logan put his hand on the small of Spencer's back, using his other hand to sling their bags over his free shoulder, and he guided him through the garage and into the house. The first place he wanted to take the kid was the kitchen. It had been hours since they'd eaten something and Spencer needed food in his system. He was far, far too skinny at the moment. Logan was making a point to feed the kid at every opportunity possible in the hopes of putting some weight back on him. Slender build be damned. There was such a thing as too skinny and Spencer had definitely reached that.

There was no one in the kitchen when they walked in, for which Logan was grateful. He wasn't too sure that Spencer was up for seeing anyone quite yet. He guided the kid—and no matter that he was in his twenties, he would always be a kid to Logan—to the island and sat him down there on one of the stools. "Just sit here. You're gonna eat something before we put our stuff away. Been too long since you ate something," Logan grumbled at him.

"Fine." Spencer answered. His pose didn't get any better once he was sitting. If anything, it got worse. He bent forward a little, his hair falling down over his face and hiding him from view, and his arms tightened a little more around himself. It cut at Logan inside to see Spencer sitting that way. It was almost like he was braced for a blow he was sure was coming. Seeing it brought back way too many memories of times in their past that Logan had hoped to God he'd never have to see again.

As Logan started to rummage in the fridge, he heard footsteps in the distance, heading toward the kitchen. His nose caught the scent that drifted in and it told him who it was even before the door opened so that, once it did, he didn't even have to turn around to say "Hey, Jean."

"Logan! You're home!" Jean exclaimed happily. Her heels clicked on the floor as she moved over. Logan pulled out of the fridge enough to give her a brief hug. When they separated, she appeared to notice the young man sitting at the island for the first time. "Oh! And you brought someone new with you?"

Logan shrugged one shoulder, bringing out his ingredients and starting to build two sandwiches. "Not technically." He looked up at Spencer, who still hadn't moved from his seat, even with the new addition to the room. Only barely did Logan resist the urge to sigh. "Jean, this is Spencer Reid. Brat, this is Jean. You remember me telling ya about her?"

"Yes, _Pater_." The boy didn't even look up as he answered the question. This was how he'd been for days. He never did volunteer information any more. He didn't say anything without being prompted to speak. And he very rarely answered anyone that wasn't Logan.

This time Logan did sigh. He set the plate with the sandwich in front of his boy with the command of "Eat up, Spencer. I want that sandwich gone, y'hear?" He watched as Spencer uncurled one arm from his waist, taking hold of the sandwich and bringing it up to his mouth, still hidden by his hair. That was the only movement on him.

Jean's eyebrows were climbing up toward her hairline at the display. Not wanting to say something directly in front of the quiet man, she made a link between her and Logan and asked _/What is wrong with him? There's something so very wrong. I…can't seem to get a read on him. His mental shields are so tight I didn't even know someone else was in here with you until I saw him!/_

Still making his own sandwich, Logan gave another sigh, this one more mental than physical. _/He's been through a lot, Jean. A lot. I brought him home with me to heal a little. He needs it right now and there was no way I was leaving him there. He's just a shell of the kid he used to be/_

_/He's important to you/_ Jean realized.

He looked up at her and nodded. There was no reason to deny it. He wasn't the least bit ashamed of his relationship with the kid and he didn't deny him to anyone. _/He's been like the son I never had and he considers me more of a father than the bastard that sired him. He calls me Pater. Latin for dad, basically. I'm the only person he's talking to right now, Jean. He's walled himself off so much and I don't know what the hell to do for him. I can't fight something I can't see/_ And oh, how he wanted to fight this, whatever the hell it was. He wanted to go at it and rip it to shreds for daring to come after his pup.

If Jean caught his violent thoughts, she said nothing about them. _/With shields that strong, I'm assuming he's a mutant?/_

Logan grimaced and took a bite from his food. _/Yeah. That's half the problem, I think. He's a path, Jeannie. Empath and telepath both. It aint healthy for an empath to be this shut off/_

Her shock was written all over her face. Horrified eyes turned over to look at the man who was still silently eating his food. _/Dear Lord. We should get him to the Professor and Hank. They might be able to do something for him, Logan. He needs help/_

"I know." Logan finally spoke out loud. For a moment the kitchen was quiet from both sounds and thoughts alike. The two men ate their food, one staring at his lap and the other staring at his friend. When they were done, Logan washed up their plates. As he did, he looked over his shoulder at Jean, thinking of something that might help. "Hey, what about the Cajun? He around here somewhere? I think his skills might come in handy with this."

The suggestion lit Jean up for just a second before her face fell a little. "He's been in his apartment in the city for a few days now. He and Rogue had another one of their fights. She's left him, again, so he took some time to himself. Let me see if I can reach him and if he'll come back for this. He'll help, if he's able."

While Jean pulled out her cell phone and sent a text to their resident Cajun, Logan got a glass of milk and brought it over to Spencer. He took a seat beside him, putting the cup in front of him and then touching his leg. "Drink up, Spencer. Milk's good for you, or so people tell me." He added that last line in hopes of prodding Spencer into one of his usual fact-spewing rambles. It didn't work. With mechanical movements, Spencer took the cup and drank slowly from it, as if he was only doing what he was told, not something he wanted to do.

Closing her phone, Jean shook her head and looked over at Logan, smiling. "He says he was already on his way back. I told him we have a new student that he might be able to help with. He said to give him about fifteen minutes and he'll be here."

The knowledge that Remy was going to be here lightened the weight on Logan's shoulders, "Why don't you have him meet us down in Blue's office? I'm gonna drop our stuff off and head down there."

* * *

Almost fifteen minutes later, Logan and Spencer were making their way down to the Med Lab together, their stuff stowed in Logan's room. Once more, Spencer walked silently, Logan's hand on his back to guide him. There wasn't any real sign of life from him. He moved like he was a doll that Logan was leading around. They stepped into the lab, the doors making a swooshing sound behind him as they closed. Logan looked over to where Hank McCoy was sitting at his table, doing something or other there with a bunch of different test tubes and a microscope. The blue man looked up, smiling when he saw Logan. "Logan! Welcome home, my friend! What have you brought to me this fine day?"

Logan drew Spencer out a little bit so he was visible to the other man. He kept a hand on Spencer's back to offer comfort though the younger man wasn't even showing his usual discomfort at being in a doctor's office. "Hey, Blue. This is Spencer, a friend of mine. I was hoping ya wouldn't mind giving him a look over. There's something wrong with him and I aint sure what it is." Logan said candidly.

If the doctor was surprised, he didn't show it. Hank smiled at him and gestured them towards one of the exam tables. "Of course, of course. Anything to help out a friend of a friend. What is your name, young man?" He asked as Spencer took a seat on the edge of the table.

When Spencer said nothing, Logan bit back yet another sigh. _I sure seem to be sighing a lot lately. I swear, this kid is going to give me grey hairs._ The thought had him wanting to snort out a laugh._If anyone could do it, it would be him_. "Spencer, Hank asked you a question. I need ya to answer him, okay kid? He's just gonna take a look at ya and make sure you're doing okay."

Without lifting his head, Spencer nodded. "Reid."

"A pleasure to meet you, Reid." True to character, Hank said nothing about the lackluster response from the patient, nor did he let it deter him. He brought out his stethoscope and started his examination. "Can you tell me a little about yourself for my files, Reid? I like to understand my patients." He also wanted to draw the boy into talking to see if he could understand what was going on. Already he could see what had concerned Logan enough to bring him down here. Now he just had to figure out what was going on. "Can you tell me your full name or what it is you do for work?"

Spencer stared at his lap and spoke that same flat monotone. "My name is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid and I work with the behavioral analysis unit in the FBI."

"FBI?" Hank asked with surprise. He looked to Logan, who nodded his confirmation but said nothing else on it. No explanation on how a mutant and a Fed became friends, or why an FBI agent was being brought into the headquarters of the X-Men to be examined by their doctor instead of by his own. When none of it was forthcoming, Hank didn't press, saving up his questions for later. Snapping the blood pressure cuff on, he gave Spencer an impressed look. "You seem awfully young to be in the FBI as an agent. A doctor, as well. What is your doctorate?"

"I have three. Mathematics, Engineering and Chemistry."

When Hank's eyebrows shot up and his eyes again went to Logan, the feral man did more than nod this time. Just as the doors opened, revealing Remy LeBeau, Logan answered the question that was written on Hank's face. "Kid's a genius, Blue. Graduated high school at 12 an started college the next year. Youngest ever agent for the FBI. He's got an IQ of 187. On top of his three doctorates, he's got two BA's and was working on another."

"Oh my." Hank's eyes were even wider.

Remy sauntered over toward them, not even shy about having listened in. "Dat's one smart _homme_ y' got dere. What's he doin' hanging round wit' de likes of y'?" Remy teased him. He stopped near Logan and smirked at him. "Y' say y' need Remy's help an den Jean tell him dat y'r taking de kid down here to Henri's lab. Y'r lucky Remy likes y', Wolvie. Y' know Remy don't like being down here."

To the untrained eye, Remy looked just as cocky and self-assured as usual. But Logan had observed the Cajun plenty of times in plenty of different moods and he could see the strain on his friend's face and he could hear the slightly off sound to his voice. Remy's masks weren't as strong as they usually were. _This last fight with Rogue must have really knocked him down _Logan realized._Must've been a bad one. Once I get Spencer settled in, the Cajun and I are gonna have a long talk. Damn. When did I suddenly become the company counselor? I aint good with this shit. That's why I wanted Remy to help with Spencer!_

"Had to have Blue take a look at the kid." Logan said by way of explanation. Sighing again—he really needed to stop that before it became a habit—he looked at Spencer. "Brat, I'm gonna step outside with Gumbo here for a minute, okay? I'll be back in shortly, don't worry. You okay with that?"

"Yes, _Pater_."

The flat voice had Remy's eyebrows going up with surprise, but he said nothing as Logan led him out of the room. Only when they were outside did Remy finally speak up. "What happened to dat boy, Wolvie? When Jean said dat y' needed m' help with someone, she didn't say what be going on."

"It's a long story, Rems." Logan brought a hand up and ran it through his hair. Remy wasn't the only one whose usual masks weren't in place. Frustrated, Logan tried to find the words for this. Spencer's story wasn't his to tell and typically, he wouldn't go around telling it to just anyone. But he was in way over his head here and there was no one he'd trust more to help than Remy. They'd been good friends since the Cajun had come to the mansion. At least, they had once they'd gotten past their initial distrust of one another. A good fight in the Danger Room that had ended with bleeding and, on Remy's part, some stitches, and they'd been good friends ever since then. Logan had learned that the face that Remy put out there for everyone to see was generally just a cover up for quite a few things he kept hidden on the inside. And as cocky of an act that the Cajun put on, he was always good at helping people through emotional things. _Must come from being an empath_. He only hoped that was enough for this.

The gentle hand on his arm drew Logan out of his thoughts. He looked over to see Remy looking at him over the top of his sunglasses, red on black eyes full of concern. "Talk to me, _mon ami._"

Those simple, friendly words opened the floodgates, and the story just seemed to start to pour from him. "I've known Spencer since he was just a little shit. He's had a hard life, Rems. Real hard. But he's always been a fighter. Even if he didn't seem like it, he was. That quiet kind of fighter, ya know?"

"_Oui_. Dey may not say much, but dey just got dat fire in dem dat no one can make go away."

"Exactly. He's been hurt a lot in his life. Like you, he got hurt for his eyes a lot too. Got the shit kicked out of him." Logan ran a hand through his hair and tried not to growl as scenes from multiple occasions flashed before him, remembering all the times he'd seen the kid all bruised up because someone hadn't liked his eyes. "They're pure white, so people called him the Soulless One. Between his eyes, his mutation, and that big brain of his, he spent most of his life getting the shit kicked out of him. He's been to hell and back so many times I don't know how the hell he's still here. But he always fought back."

Frustrated once more, Logan paced away, needing to move. "I got this call a week ago from his boss. He tells me Spencer got kidnapped while on a job." Realizing that Remy hadn't been there when he'd told Hank what the kid did, he explained, "He works at the BAU in the FBI; they profile and catch serial killers. I guess this one, he got Spencer." And oh, how that had Logan wanting to snarl. A hint of a growl crept into his voice. "The bastard held him for a few days, drugged him, beat him, all in the name of God trying to punish sinners. The killer, he had something like split personalities. One was the actual guy, one was his father, and one was an archangel. The archangel was the killer. The dad personality was the bastard that beat Spencer. Killed him at one point. The main personality came out and saved him. The fucker streamed live video of what he did to the kid to the team. They saw him die and get brought back."

That had Remy wincing. "_Bon Dieu._"

"Yeah." Logan paused in his pacing and growled. "Somehow Spencer managed to give them clues to where he was. But still, the kid saved himself. Got the gun away while the bastard was making him dig his own grave and he shot him right as the team got there. They brought him home, but his boss says he wasn't the same. Acting strange. Guess the kid got addicted to what the bastard gave him." Just thinking on it had Logan's hands clenching tightly. "Dilaudid."

Remy rocked back on his heels and whistled. "Drug store heroin."

Unable to help himself, Logan winced. "Yeah. Well, kid decided to quit. Hotch, his boss, said he took a few days off, but when Hotch went to check on him, Spencer was just a zombie in his apartment. Not high, just…gone. He wasn't using no more, but wasn't reacting to anything either. He said the kid was beat up when he got there, like someone new had hurt him, but Spencer wouldn't talk. The only time he got a reaction was when he talked about a hospital and Spencer freaked. When Hotch promised he wouldn't take him, the kid quieted down and he stopped speaking again. None of them could get him to talk. So they called me." Once more Logan started to pace. This was just too much. "I came out and…damn, Gumbo, he looked like hell. I stayed there a few days, tried to get him to talk to me. Typically you can't get him to shut up. Now? He'll answer my questions, follow my directions, but otherwise he's just locked away in there. Only thing he won't answer is about what put those marks on him and I have a feeling that's the biggest thing that's wrong. He's not letting himself feel anymore. I didn't know what the hell to do for him. He's like family, Remy. I couldn't just leave him there. So I arranged for time off for him and I brought him here."

The hug he suddenly found himself in surprised Logan. He wasn't a big hugging person. With anyone else, he would've born it stiffly, maybe growled a little and yanked away. But right now he gratefully accepted his friend's embrace. At the moment, it felt perfect.

When they pulled apart, Remy patted Logan's arm. "Y' did de right t'ing, Logan. Sounds like de last t'ing he needs is to be 'lone right now. Emotions be hard t'ings to deal with. Sounds like he's hiding from his."

That made Logan realize he'd forgotten something important in his story. Realizing it, he grimaced. "I didn't even think to mention it. He's a path, Rem. Telepath and empath both."

Remy's eyes went wider than ever. "_Merde_! Dat's worse, Logan!" Those wide eyes shot to the door. "De empathy, dat makes dis worse. For an empath not to feel, not to let himself feel, it's like starving y'rself from de inside out. We don't survive well without emotions. Dey mean so much more to an empath den everyone else. We need to feel like we need to breathe."

"I know it's asking a lot, but I don't know who the hell else to ask." And to no one else would Logan admit that. He knew he could trust Remy with his words. "I'd have brought him here either way, but when I got here I was hoping ya might be able to help a little. Someone that understands the empathy and the hurt. If ya can't, I understand…"

"_Non,_ Logan. Remy can't say no to dis. Won't turn down a friend asking fo' help. And Remy gotta help him. Know what dat feels like, me. Know dat pain. Remy can't let someone else feel dat way and not help." He rubbed a hand over his chin, obviously thinking. Then his eyes went back to Logan's face, a serious look on his face. "Dis won't be easy, _mon ami_. Dis needs to be fixed, fast. Means Remy might have to get a bit mean about it. Gotta make him feel, y' know? If talking don't work, den Remy's gonna have to push."

"I trust you, Remy." And he did. He trusted the man that, when he'd met him, had reminded him so much of Spencer. A man that he'd come to know and considered not only a close friend, but also another person in his 'pack' that he looked out for and protected. Trust wasn't easy for either Logan or Remy to give but they had both earned it with each other time and time again. There was no doubt in either of their minds that they could trust the other.

Remy's smile was wide and bright. "_Merci_, Logan. Why don't y'all finish up in here and den y' bring him on down to de boathouse? It's far enough away from de house dat it should be a lil easier on him, an a lil safer fo' everyone else."

"Good idea. I'll bring our stuff down an we can stay there for a while."

"Remy'll give y' bout an hour, _oui_? Meet y' down dere den."

As Logan watched his friend dart away, he hoped that this might do the trick. Otherwise his only choice was going to be Chuck and the last thing he wanted to do was put Spencer through that ordeal. His boy was finicky on the best of days about telepaths. He carried the same distrust of them that Logan did. Besides which, there was no telling what might be seen if the Professor stepped into Spencer's head. The boy had a lot of secrets locked away in there. Secrets that could be devastating if they got free.

With one final sigh—he _really_ had to stop that!—Logan pushed all those dark thoughts away. No point in courting trouble. They'd see how things went with Remy first and worry about the rest later. Firm in that resolve, he turned around and went back into the Med Lab, back to his surrogate son.


	2. Chapter 2

When the two men reached the boathouse forty five minutes later, there was no sign yet of Remy. Logan wasn't that worried. Remy had said an hour. That meant he'd be here in an hour—give or take about fifteen minutes. The Cajun never could manage to be on time. He was either early, or late, depending on what he was there for, or who was in charge. He was late so often to Danger Room sessions that Scott had started planning his opening speech around it. He'd give everyone a layout of what they were expected to do, what the whole point of the session was, and then when Remy would finally arrive, he'd tell the man what his part in things was without briefing him on anything else. Remy didn't seem to mind. He said it gave him a challenge.

To kill time, Logan showed Spencer upstairs and got him settled into one of the bedrooms there. He'd tried to check in with the Professor and let him know that he had someone here and they were staying down at the boathouse, but Jean had told him that the Professor was out for the night and would be back come morning. However, she'd told him not to worry and gone ahead to put fresh sheets on the bed while they'd gathered their things from Logan's room.

By the time Logan finished getting Spencer settled in, his worry had grown even more. He went back downstairs to try and get himself under control before Remy arrived. When he left the room, Spencer had been lying on the bed with his back towards the door, far too still to be sleeping.

What the hell was he going to do? This was some heavy shit here going on with Spencer and Logan was way out of his depth. Never before had the kid shut down on him this way. Always in the past he'd allowed Logan in, at least somewhat. He'd _talked_ to him, at least. Never had he just completely shut off this way. Just as worrisome was the physical side of things. Spencer had only let Hank examine what was showing. Anything underneath his clothes, except for listening to his heart and lungs, had been off-limits. The minute Hank had suggested it, Spencer had pulled in close to Logan and started to shake his head frantically. Logan hadn't had the heart to press it. Even when Hank quietly suggested to him that there might be some serious damage and maybe sedating him to examine him might be a good idea, Logan had refused. He wouldn't violate Spencer that way. But he had to admit it was tempting.

A knock at the door yanked Logan from his depressing thoughts. He called out "Come in!" and went back to smoking his cigar while he dug through the cupboards to see if there was any of the fixings for coffee in here.

Remy came strolling in with his own lit cigarette dangling between his fingers. He hopped right up on the counter, ignoring Logan's growl, and he rested his arms on his knees. "How'd it go?"

Straightforward and to the point. Perfect. Logan wasn't in the mood for any other bullshit right now. "Shitty." He growled out. In one cupboard he finally found some coffee and he gave a happy growl. About damn time! He tossed that down onto the counter by the pot and moved to get the water. "Blue says he's underweight by a good twenty five pounds, which is a hell of a lot for an already slender kid, and a little dehydrated. I've got vitamins and a calorie count for him now that he's damn well gonna follow."

"Y'll get him straightened out, _mon ami_." Remy reassured him. "Y' worry bout de body and y' let Remy worry bout de rest fo' now. He'll see what he can find out."

With one hand Logan gestured upstairs while his other hand continued to pour water into the coffee maker. "He's upstairs in his room. Last I saw, he was lying on the bed, but he's awake. I'm warning ya, though. He don't talk much. Not unless I'm there to tell him to."

"Let Remy talk to him alone fo' a bit, cher." Remy said softly. He looked at the staircase and then back to Logan. "Y' can listen if y' want ta. Make y' feel better, maybe. Remy won't hurt him. But don't t'ink he'll talk bout it with y' looming dere."

Logan smiled at Remy. "I know ya aint gonna hurt him, Cajun. If I thought that, you wouldn't be here."

"_Merci_."

* * *

When he walked into the room, Remy had to take a second to find the small figure in there. The long, lanky man he'd seen earlier wasn't immediately visible. He wasn't on the bed as Logan had said. When he finally found him, his heart ached just a little. Spencer had wedged himself behind a chair in the corner of the room. Only the tips of his bare feet were visible. If it hadn't been for the training Remy had that made him search every available hiding spot in a room, he probably would have missed him. _Dat's prolly de point. He's hiding._

Usually Remy walked silently; it was a trait from his training as a thief that hung over into his daily life. But now he made sure his footsteps made soft sounds. The last thing he wanted was to startle the hidden man. He moved slowly forward until he was a few feet away. Then, he simply folded himself down to the floor.

There were a couple different options here. One, he could sit and wait, allowing the man to get used to his presence. If he did that, there was a good chance that neither of them would speak the whole night. But it would allow Spencer to become somewhat comfortable around him. Two, he could try and work his way past his walls, talking and using his charm to draw things from him. Or three, he could simply talk to him. Granted, Spencer might not say a thing, but Remy could say plenty. No charm, no trying to push. Just…talk. Option three seemed the smartest one. He didn't want to try and charm the man right away. No, he'd save that as a last resort. But he had to try and find a way to reach the poor soul. Remy couldn't stand seeing someone hurt. Add on that he knew how bad it was for an empath to go this hard, this cold. Plus, this man was important to Logan, someone that Remy looked up to and respected. He'd told Logan he would try to help and that was what he was going to do.

"Hey dere, Spencer. Remy asked Wolvie to let us talk fo' a bit. Thought y' and Remy should get to know one another." He said softly. The words were just a whisper in the room, but it seemed to suit the darkness of the night. Their only light was from the moon stealing in through the windows.

There was no answer from Spencer; not that Remy had expected one. A breakthrough would not happen instantly. But time was of the essence. From Logan's words, Spencer had already been like this for days now. Each day he stayed this way made it worse and worse and even more dangerous. Not only to Spencer, but to those around him. With both telepathy and empathy, if he finally shattered, it could affect quite a few people around him, depending on his strength.

"Remy's gonna be honest with y', _mon ami_. Wolvie done asked Remy to help with y' cause he's worried fo' y'. An Remy, he's an empath too. Know dat feeling, me. Know what it's like to get dem feelings so stuck in y' dat y' just can't breathe round dem. But locking y'rself away like dis, it aint healthy. Y' just gonna end up hurting y'rself an maybe someone else round y'. Y' gotta feel dese t'ings, Spencer. Y' gotta let it out."

To Remy's utter surprise, Spencer softly said "I know."

Those two words stunned Remy enough that he couldn't speak for a second. He didn't know how to respond to it. "Den why aren't y'?" He eventually asked.

The room was quiet for a few long minutes. Remy said nothing, just waiting for some kind of response. He could tell that Spencer was trying to gather his thoughts to himself. So Remy gave him the silence to find the words he wanted. Finally, Spencer answered him. "You understand the empathy, having lived it yourself. I appreciate that you have sound advice to give. But you, as well as everyone else, have not stopped to factor in all the variables."

The scientific way that he spoke intrigued Remy. He recalled what Logan had been saying when Remy had entered the Med Lab. This man was extremely intelligent. It would make sense that his speech reflected that. "Variables?" He prompted. Simple questions sometimes got the best results.

This time wasn't any different. "Yes." Spencer whispered. He took a deep, shaky breath. "My eidetic memory, for one. I never forget anything I've seen. Never. The telepathy, for another. Not only do I have my own images to contend with, but what I've seen in the minds of others as well. Add all of these variables together and I have not only my emotions, but the emotions of the other person, the memory to perfectly preserve something whether I like it or not, my memories, and the memories of the other person. It no longer becomes a simple matter of releasing the emotions. It becomes a battle to maintain sanity in the midst of this onslaught, using all of my strength, leaving next to nothing left over to try and figure out a safe way to release this."

Haunting white eyes lifted to Remy, shining with the light of the moon, almost glowing in the darkened room. "I've listened to my friends ask me to let this go. I've listened to Logan pleading with me to release the feelings. Now, he sends you in here, hoping you'll connect with me. Hoping you'll convince me to let these feelings out and to feel again. To stop being so numb. But not a one of you grasp what that entails. No one has stopped to think about how I could do this. It's not just the emotions that are eating away at me. It's the thoughts that aren't mine. The memories that aren't mine. They're twined together so that I can't release one without the other. And if I release them, they roam free to terrorize anyone around me. Or I can release them to one person and drive them mad with what I see and feel. Is that what you want? Do you want to experience this? Do you want me to allow those around me to live with this?"

Those eyes closed and Remy felt for the first time some emotion coming from the man in the corner; a man that was so much more than Remy had realized. What he felt was exhaustion.

"None of you have any idea what you're asking of me." Spencer whispered. His voice sounded beyond tired. "Now please, let me sleep. Let me make another nightly attempt at peace, even though I know I'm doomed to fail. Please."

What could Remy do? He couldn't resist the broken plea. Silently he rose, taking a second to look down at Spencer. "I will find a way to help y'." He swore softly. Turning, he made his way to the door.

Just as he opened it, one foot already out, he heard Spencer's quiet reply. "I hope to whatever God there is that you can, Remy LeBeau. Before it's too late."

* * *

It was a tempting thing to try and listen in to whatever was going on upstairs. Somehow, Logan managed to resist. He'd give them their privacy. Maybe Spencer would open up without Logan there hovering over him. Maybe he'd actually let Remy in.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs had Logan looking up. The fact that heard Remy coming at all wasn't a good sign. Usually the thief moved silently. Logan pushed up from the table, his coffee cup forgotten, just as Remy came into view. One look at his face had Logan swallowing a curse. "Remy?"

The young Cajun seemed almost in a daze. His eyes looked ancient in that moment; like the weight of ages sat in them. Pain, more than any one soul should have to feel. "_Bon Dieu_, Wolvie. Dis be so much more dan Remy thought." Lifting his eyes, he looked straight at Logan. It startled the feral man to see the tears built there. How many times had he seen Remy cry in all the years he'd been here? Once? Twice? All of that was forgotten with Remy's next words. "If we don't help him, cher, he'll die. From de pent up t'ings, or by his own hand."

A chill ran down Logan's spine. His gaze shot up toward the bedroom as if he could see the man on the other side and reassure himself that he was still there. Remy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Not tonight, _homme_. Y'r boy, he wants de help. He does. But…Remy needs to t'ink about dis. Need to t'ink about how we gonna do dis." Bright, demon eyes lifted, focusing on Logan's face. "He's got a ton of shit trapped in dere and he can't let it out. He says he can either release dis inta de air for everyone or to a person. Y'r one of de strongest Remy knows, _homme_. T'ink y' can take on some of de memories of whatever dis hurt is an not go insane?"

"I'll take on anything I have to for him, Gumbo."

That had Remy smiling slightly. "Remy knew y'd say dat, Wolvie. Y' and Remy gonna help dis po' boy. Y' bring him to de danger room at seven. Remy meet y' dere and we do what we're gonna do. Should have Henri dere. Maybe Jean too, _oui_? Just in case t'ings get a lil bad."

Logan grinned at him, breaking some of the tension in the moment. "You? You're going to be up at seven?" He taunted him. "I'll believe it when I see it."

The twinkle that came into Remy's eyes was familiar; that teasing personality that was so true to him. He started to make his way toward the door, tossing a grin over his shoulder. "Dat implies Remy's going to sleep at all, _mon ami_. Dere's work to be done. No rest fo' de wicked." With one final wink, the Cajun was out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

When Logan and Spencer stepped inside the Danger Room, it was two minutes to seven. In preparation for whatever was going to happen, Logan had dressed comfortably and he'd had Spencer do the same. Logan was in simple jeans and a t-shirt, while Spencer was in one of his few pairs of jeans—black—and a button up long sleeved purple shirt of some material that Logan thought felt butter soft. He'd given the kid a jean jacket to throw over top of it—Spencer was always cold. Even now, while they were inside, Spencer had his hands shoved into the pockets and was huddled in as if he was freezing.

A part of Logan had hoped that Spencer would be a little more open after his conversation with the Cajun the night before. But morning had rolled around and Spencer had still been exactly as he had the past few days. Quiet. Withdrawn. A zombie. It was hard for Logan to watch. _I hope whatever Gumbo has planned is going to work_ Logan thought to himself.

They'd barely been in there when the door opened and Hank and Jean both came walking in. "Good morning, my friends." Hank called out as he made his way over. His smile was bright, as it always was. There were few people who were as friendly as Hank was.

Jean walked up with him, giving Logan one of her gentle smiles that she reserved for close friends. "Morning, Logan."

"Morning Jean, Hank. Thanks for coming."

"Of course." Hank looked over at Spencer, who was standing with his head bent, hair shielding his face. "Remy said that he thought he might know a way to help your young friend here and he wanted a medical professional around just in case. I confess, it worries me slightly to have Remy asking for medical assistance with as much as he hates being in my lab. I fear it's not a positive omen for what is to come."

"Aw_, _M. _Bête_, it's not y' dat Remy don't like, it's just y'r labs." Remy's voice rang around them as he made his way silently into the room. Logan had heard the whisper of the door, but apparently their two friends hadn't. They startled when Remy spoke, turning at the same time to look over at him. Remy strolled casually toward them, a corner of his mouth quirked up. The Cajun was dressed almost as comfortably as them, in low slung dark jeans and a black shirt. He was barefoot, something that was common for him in the Danger Room, but he lacked his usual duster and sunglasses. He smiled at Hank. "Trust y', me. Not gonna let personal issues get in de way of helping someone. "

Hank smiled and clapped a hand on Remy's shoulder when he got close. "It's glad I am to hear that, Remy. Now, will you explain a little more clearly what exactly it is that you have planned for this morning?"

"_En une minute, mon ami._" Stepping away from Hank's hand, Remy made his way over to Spencer. When he reached him, he didn't try to touch him, only stopped in front of him. "_Mon ami_, y' still willing to let Remy help y' with all dis? Not gonna do it if y'r not comfortable no more. Y' gotta be willing to let us help y'. To trust us." It was the last part that Remy knew would be the hardest for Spencer. All that he'd seen of the young man, all that Logan had told him, said that trust would be hard.

For a second Spencer didn't move. When Logan made as if to speak, Remy shook his head at him, asking for silence. Finally Spencer spoke, though he moved not an inch. "_Pater_ trusts all of you, or he wouldn't let you be here. I trust him."

"Dat's close enough. Okay, let me explain to everyone what we're gonna do an den we'll get started." Once said, Remy turned to look at the friends gathered with them. "It's like dis. Spencer, he's got not just emotions but memories stuck in his head an from what Remy got, dey're trying to drive him insane. De only way to get dem free is to let dem out. Remy, he burns his emotions out inta his charge so dey don't drive him crazy. But Spencer don't got de charge to burn dem out, so dey getting stuck in dere. Remy gonna take some of dem fo' him an burn dem out. De other ones, Remy was t'inking dat y' can go in dere, Jeanie, an help him hold himself together so he don't get lost trying to let dem out. Make sure he don't fall apart in his own mind."

Jean startled a little but visibly gathered herself together. "I can most certainly act as an anchor. We'll need a moment to gather him together in his mindscape so that I can establish the link and understand what I need to do. If that's okay with you, Spencer." She looked at him for that part, but he said nothing, simply standing there.

"And I will stay to treat anyone that needs it afterwards." Hank said, realizing why he'd been called here and glad that Remy had thought to do so.

"_Oui_, Henri. Remy was t'inking y' could run de control booth too, _s'il tu plait_? Maybe give us a peaceful place to be in?"

And so Hank went to the control room while the others waited. When the simulation of a forest was called up, the four were left in a small grass clearing. Remy took a seat right there, bringing Spencer down with him so that they sat facing one another, their knees almost touching. "Now, Spencer, y' need to let Jeannie in so dat she can anchor y' an den y' need to set up a link to Remy."

"I know." Spencer whispered. He brought his hands out from his pockets, resting them on his knees. They seemed to be trembling slightly. With a deep breath, Spencer closed his eyes and the room went quiet.

* * *

Inside of his mental mindscape, Spencer stood in the center of a vast library. This was the area he had created in his mindscape to house everything in his memories. Things were sectioned off and labeled for easy access and all stuck into their appropriate places. Most of it was out in the open; at least, the basic things. But up the staircases, there were rooms that housed more private things. Those doors were even more shielded than the rest of his mind so that no one would be able to access them. For the unwary, there were mental traps laid into those shields, protecting what he considered most important.

There was a knock to his outermost shield. With a sigh, Spencer forced himself not to panic, though the instinctive reaction was there. God, he _hated_ letting a telepath into his mind. If it wasn't an emergency he wouldn't have allowed it. But he saw no way around it. He _needed_ one in here to help hold him together and anchor him enough that he could do what needed to be done. Logan trusted this woman, he reminded himself. That reminder was the only thing that had him moving to the door and opening it. The woman from the Danger Room, Jean, was standing there and smiling. She stepped inside at his gesture, watching as he shut the door behind her. When he turned back, he saw her marveling at the room she was in. "This is amazing, Spencer." She breathed out. "It's the most beautiful, intricate mindscape I've ever seen!"

Shuffling awkwardly, Spencer shrugged one shoulder and looked away. "Thank you." What else was he supposed to say? This was how his mindscape had always been. This was how his mind had been fashioned for as long as he had known. Dragging his feet a little, he moved toward his familiar armchair. "It looks better than it did. Things have been a bit of a mess but I've been slowly getting them back in order."

A loud rattle came from the back of the room and Spencer winced. He strengthened the shield over the door and tried to keep it contained a little longer. The sound had Jean turning to look. "Is this what we're going to work with today?"

Spencer nodded at her. "Part of it."

"Are you ready for this?"

"No." But he smiled just a little, a rueful smile. Did he have a choice? That door wouldn't hold much longer. It was too full and it was starting to poison him. "But I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be. Let's get this done."

He felt Jean's presence wrap around his mind, shielding him from others, and he felt her reaching inside to where his center was and steadying him. It helped give him back just a bit more control and some of his strength. That strength allowed him to reach out. With a feather light touch, Spencer reached for Remy's mind, extending the link toward him. When he felt the other empath accept it, he sat back in his chair, waiting. It was only a moment later that Remy stepped into the library, looking the same as he did in the real world. "_Bonjour_, cher." Remy said easily.

Something about this Cajun man was immensely relaxing. Easy to be around. Spencer couldn't resist giving him just a slight smile. "Hello, Remy. Welcome to my mind."

"Interesting. Never dealt wit' another mind afore. Y' style, y'r mindscape, kinda like Remy does his, 'cept Remy's is like Papa's library. Guess we use what we comfortable with, _non_?" He looked around once more and then over to Jean. "Dis what all paths see when dey go to another's mind? Dese libraries and such?"

Jean shrugged her shoulders a little. "Each mental mindscape is different. They vary, depending on the person and the strength of their shields as well as the complexity of their minds."

"Mine is a little larger than most because of my memory." Spencer explained. "My eidetic memory was apparent even before my mutation manifested. Since my memory is stronger and clearer than most and holds a great deal more detail, my mindscape is styled to accommodate that. Hence, the books." He gestured around them at the floor to ceiling shelves surrounding them, with a hand that shook just slightly. He was stalling and he knew it and so did the others.

Remy reached a hand out, touching Spencer's shoulder in a gentle sort of way. He didn't offer platitudes, thank God. No false reassurances. His words were straightforward and to the point, in a way that Spencer greatly appreciated. "Why don't we get started, cher? Jeannie can stay out here to keep y' steady and y' can take Remy where we need to go, and we'll help y' get dese t'ings out."

Spencer looked from one shielded door to the next, "I don't know where to even start." Spencer said softly.

"Why don't y' take us to Georgia first? Logan said dat's de t'ing that started all dis."

Georgia. Grimacing, Spencer moved out of his chair. He led them, not to the bulging door at the back, but to another door off to the right. When he reached it, he rested his hand over it, taking just a moment to try and steel himself for what was ahead. His days in the shack were not his favorite memories to relive. There were others, ones that were so much worse, but in this place he had hit a personal low. Here, he had given in to a demon inside of himself, one that he had always managed to resist. For that, he would always remember his time there.

No one said anything as Spencer disabled the shields and the door opened. Together, Spencer and Remy stepped in, with Jean staying in the main room to help anchor part of Spencer in himself. "Good luck." She whispered to their retreating forms.

* * *

Logan couldn't help pacing back and forth as he watched the three still figures. Jean had sunk down to sit with the two boys, saying that it would make it easier on her body. The three only sat silently, eyes closed. When Spencer suddenly twitched, a single tear rolling down his cheek, Logan's body went tense. What the hell was going on? He hated not knowing. Hated being stuck here, waiting. Why had Remy had him in here if there was nothing he could do?

"You're here for Spencer." Jean spoke softly. She still had that look on her face that told him she was linked with Spencer, but apparently it wasn't too deep. She was still able to talk to him. "He's showing Remy what happened in Georgia. They're working through the emotions together, drawing away the ones that aren't his. This young man, he has so many ghosts in his head, Logan. Other people's thoughts, memories, emotions. I have no idea how he managed to stay sane."

"He's got a hell of a strong mind." Logan growled.

Jean could only nod. "Yes, yes he does."

* * *

"Take me to de next room, cher. Take me to de one dat's quivering back dere." Remy said as he and Spencer stood back in the main part of the library. "We'll deal with dose memories next. Y'r doing good, cher. We done got de feelings dat weren't y'rs outta de ones from Georgia. We do dis one and Remy t'ink y'll be good to do de rest on y'r own like normal."

Staring at the door, Spencer shivered, his arms wrapping around his waist. This was the last place he wanted to go to. "I don't know if I can open it." He admitted quietly. The words trembled as they came out. This was the room that scared Spencer the most. This was the part that was causing him all the trouble. Here, he contained the most recent events. Here, he contained part of his hell.

Remy put a hand on his shoulder again. Even though they were only mental projections of themselves, Spencer swore he felt the warmth move down into him. "Tell Remy what's in dere, Spencer. Y' tell me first, it may take some of de power out of it."

Could he say the words? To let someone view it was going to be hell. To let someone, a total stranger, know what happened to him…he wasn't sure he could do this anymore. He wasn't sure he could let someone in this close. But Logan trusted him. He'd mentioned Remy to Spencer before and he'd said he was the person he trusted most here. Besides, Logan would never let anyone in that would hurt Spencer. He had to hold on to that thought. He had to hold on to this hope. If he didn't, he might as well give himself up for dead now.

Jean sat quietly in one of the room's armchairs, watching them intently. But Spencer didn't let himself focus on her. His eyes were locked on the black, quivering door that led to memories he never wanted to see again. "I don't know why this time bothered me so badly." He found himself saying. "It wasn't the first time, in any way. Maybe it was because he was clumsy. He left behind more of himself than he intended. Or maybe it was because there was a group."

"What dey do to y', Spencer?"

The soft question had Spencer answering before he could think too much about it. "They raped me." He whispered. Behind him, he heard Jean's gasped shock. Remy twitched not a muscle nor made a sound. His hand stayed on Spencer's shoulder. Holding on to that, Spencer continued on. "There were five of them, one of which was a telepath. Not strong, slightly erratic, but enough. They…they caught me while I was high. My shields weren't as strong and I didn't have the ability to fight, otherwise they never would have managed to get me and he never would have got past my shielding. But Georgia left me damaged." A shudder ran down Spencer, echoed by a strong quiver of the door. "It wasn't the physical part so much. I've had worse. I could handle it. It was just…while they used my body, the leader shoved his way into my mind, tossing everything around and rooting through everything. He was looking for information, I knew it, but I couldn't stop him. I was too high. But my traps and shields fought him and ripped back at his mind. In his panic, he didn't pull back out enough and he ended up fully linking with me instead of just delving my mind."

The door gave another quiver in response with Spencer's words. Still, he stared. "The shock of the forced link dropped what little shields I had. I couldn't fight the images or the emotions. I felt all of my own and theirs as well. Their excitement. Their fear. Their anger. I could hear their thoughts and see what they saw when they looked at me. And with the leader linked so messily with me, suddenly his thoughts and the thoughts he was getting from them were flooding me and it was too much. Too much."

Remy squeezed his shoulder softly, a sign of support. When he spoke, his voice was low and gentle. "What happened next?"

"I…I killed them." The words pulled out of Spencer and they throbbed with emotion. He curled his hands into fists and he hunched in on himself. The guilt he'd felt from this clawed at him. "I killed all of them. And…I felt them die, felt their emotions, felt their rage, heard their minds screaming at me to save them. There was so much damage in here, inside of me, I couldn't deal with it. So I locked it all away in there. But it's poisoning me."

The hand on his shoulder tightened just a little. "Y' need to open dat door, Spencer. Y' need to let it out. Dat's de only way y'r ever gonna get rid of dis. Y' gotta let it go."

"I can't. It's just, it's too much. I can't do this."

"Y' can, Spencer. I know y' can. And Remy, he gonna be right here with y'. Not gonna leave y' alone."

Spencer couldn't bring himself to be ashamed as he brought his hand up to hold tight to the one on his shoulder. "Promise?" So many people had broken promises to him. But right here and now, he had to trust someone. He had to. And if Logan was trusting Remy, then Spencer was going to as well.

"Promise, cher. Not going anywhere, me."

With a soft sound like a sob, Spencer shielded the rest of his mind and then lowered the shields that contained the poisonous memories. As he did, the door seemed to melt and the memories exploded into his mind.

* * *

A look of pain transformed Jean's face. Logan had a split second to worry over it before he was suddenly hit with images, emotions and thoughts that he knew weren't his. The onslaught took him under, knocking him down, swarming into his mind. They sped by, one after the other, blinking past so fast he could barely see them. But what he did see ripped at his heart and left him bleeding inside. This was what Spencer had been living with? This was what had happened to him?

Logan clenched his hands into fists, not noticing the blades that slid free, and deep down inside, the Wolverine gave a roar of rage at the horror that his pup had gone through.

He saw Spencer lying there, saw him trying to fight his way free. He saw it from so many different angles, all at the same time, building one giant picture. He had to watch as Spencer tried everything his sluggish body could just to get free. He watched as Spencer was flipped over and his face shoved down into the ground as another person climbed on and violated the poor man. And he watched as suddenly Spencer's spine bowed and a scream tore from him as all the man around him suddenly started to fall. He felt it right along with Spencer as the lives of each man flickered and then were gone.

All of a sudden the images stopped, abruptly cut off. He blinked his eyes and was stunned to find that he was on his knees at Spencer's side, with Jean half holding him there. She was holding him, her own face buried against the back of his shoulder, and he could feel the wetness in his shirt from where her tears were dripping. In front of him, he watched as Spencer gave a cry and suddenly he and Remy were moving. Remy's arms shot out in just enough time to catch Spencer as the young genius started to fall. Spencer collapsed into Remy's arms. He curled up tight, like a small child, and the first sob broke free. Logan battled back his own tears as he watched his pup once more go through a pain that no one should ever have to feel. Inside, he raged at yet again being too late to save him. Too late to do anything but watch and hope that this time wasn't going to prove to be one time too many.


	4. Chapter 4

Spencer came back to himself wrapped tight in a pair of arms he knew he'd never been in before and yet they felt so familiar. Then the voice that went with them washed over him and he knew who held him. "Shh, shh. _C'est va bien. Je avez vous. C'est va bien_." Remy whispered soothingly. Though Spencer didn't know what the words meant at the moment, too tired to even think of the translation, they soothed him in ways he hadn't known were possible. With those words came a sense of comfort projected from Remy to him. Spencer could do nothing but stay in those arms and listen to the strange strangled sound he could hear. It took him a moment to realize that the sound came from him. He was sobbing.

He had hoped pulling back out of his mind would help him escape the pain of those memories, but it hadn't. The pain was still there, ripping him apart, aching to be set free. The extra memories and thoughts had been channeled away from his own and separated so that he had his core again. It was his own. But the _energy_ they'd left behind! That was moving across his skin like a current. He had to let it out. Somehow, some way, he _had_ to let it out.

Around him, the simulation still ran. Spencer felt the energy in the items around him. How was that possible? He didn't know, didn't understand at the moment, but he would use it. There was only one way that Spencer knew of to release this kind of energy and it was the one thing he had fought so long not to do. The one thing he had refused to use. Yet now, the need for it was inside him, stronger than any call for the Dilaudid.

Dropping his hands, Spencer gripped tightly to the grass underneath him, trying to restrain what was aching to be set free. He felt Remy's body go tight against him. "Spencer?" The Cajun said slowly. The empath could feel the cascade of emotions in Spencer. All of them toppled underneath his pain and shame finally, leaving him no choice. With a scream that chilled everyone in the room as well as the man watching from the control room, Spencer released the restraint on that one secret part of his mind, only barely managing to shield those close to him as the forest around them exploded.

Trees cracked and splintered, sending shards flying. Branches lifted and whipped in a whirlwind around them. Rocks ripped up from the ground. All of them flew and broke and shook with the force of Spencer's sobbing. The pain drew him down, sucking him under, clouding his mind until he couldn't think, could only feel. He gave a hoarse cry and ripped himself from Remy's arms, the small, rational part of his mind having him flinging himself away from the others. He had no idea how long the protection he'd put around them would last. The closer they were, the more chance they would be hurt.

The light in Spencer was pushed down and the darkness took control. He could feel the change trying to come over him and he fought it back. That darkness shredded everything around it, burning out that excess energy, channeling out the emotions that were in him. A tiny portion of him heard Remy's scream of "Henri! Add bots! Give him somet'ing to fight, now!"

Then something Spencer didn't recognize came racing through the trees. He sensed whatever it was long before he saw it; before Logan even heard it. Remy leapt over to him, taking a defensive crouch beside him. "If it aint Remy, Logan or Jean, den kill it, Spencer." Remy told him plain. "Dey're bots just for dis purpose. Let it out on dem."

The darkness in Spencer grinned. This, he could do. As the clearing was suddenly full of figures, Spencer focused his energy, grabbing each bot and lifting them high into the air. He paid no attention to the shock around him. Didn't realize that Logan had gathered Jean and Remy and moved them out of the way, leaving space for Spencer to fight. It took only a thought to crush those that he'd lifted. More came and he accepted the challenge. The boy Spencer took a backseat; the dark in him came to the front. Closing his eyes to hide the darkness he knew was now there, Spencer let his inner demon free. With a deadly grace, he set about destroying everything that they sent at him.

* * *

Remy watched in absolute awe as Spencer destroyed bot after bot. The man's fighting skills were pretty spectacular. And his power…_Dieu_! His strength was absolutely amazing! And he was doing it all with his _eyes closed_. That just made it even more staggering.

"Logan, I thought you said he was a path. A dual path." Jean said in a hoarse whisper. She was still recovering from what they'd done.

Eyes on Spencer, Logan nodded. "He is."

"But he's very obviously telekinetic. An extremely strong telekinetic. No mutant has _three_ mutations."

Remy caught a feel of Logan's emotions and knew there was a long story here. Just as he knew even before Logan said it that the older man wouldn't tell that story. Sure enough, "You'll have to ask him, Red. That's his story to tell." Logan told her gruffly. "An I can pretty much guarantee he aint gonna say shit."

It took fifteen minutes for Spencer to finally start to slow. When Remy called to end simulation and the Danger Room returned to normal, the young doctor stood in the center. His head bowed as the room emptied and he was obviously panting for breath. But, Remy could feel that this had done what was needed. Spencer felt exhausted, but he also felt somewhat peaceful.

His eyes opened and the white lacked its usual sheen, showing a dullness that told them just how tired he was. Then, they slid closed again as the slender body started to slump to the floor. Logan moved quickly, catching Spencer before he hit, already raising his head to shout "Hank!"

Even as the doors opened to admit Hank, Logan was already moving, racing out of there. Hank didn't try to stop him. He just ran alongside him and the two disappeared down the hall in the direction of the Med Lab.

Remy turned back to find that Jean was still standing there, her eyes slightly distant as she stared in the direction that the men had gone. There were lines of pain and exhausted on her face. Remy reached out a cautious hand, just gently brushing his fingertips down her arm. "Jeannie? Y' okay?" Maybe she was still stunned from what they'd been through? It had been a hell of an experience. Remy knew he was going to have to work to burn out his own energy from it later on. For now he focused on the woman beside him who looked tired and worried.

The touch of his hand barely seemed to faze her at first. She just kept staring with that same distant look. When she finally did speak, it was almost absently, like she didn't even realize that she was talking out loud. "There's something about that boy." She murmured. Her eyebrows drew down slightly. "Even with as out of control as he was, there was so much he kept hidden. Like the shields were just a natural thing, always there. And the power…it was like he barely touched it."

"What do y' mean?

"He was straining so hard to keep control of himself, to fight with his powers, but it…it was like there was this whole well of power somewhere in there, just hidden behind one of those shields. Like he'd blocked off part of his own power." Jean shook her head at that and she finally turned her eyes towards Remy. They were bright with confusion. "Why would someone block off part of their power? And why wouldn't he use it to help himself?"

Those were damn good questions. Unfortunately, they were questions Remy didn't have an answer to. "_Je ne sais pas._ Dat's somet'ing y'r gonna have to ask him." He didn't bother telling her that he doubted the young man would answer. While she'd obviously been looking at his thoughts and his powers, Remy had been watching the man's emotions while they were in his mind. One thing he knew for sure was that this Spencer carried an awful lot of pain, both past and present, and it wasn't the kind of pain that came from something small. It was the kind that came from something huge, something life-changing. Whatever that was, it was probably tied into this closing off of his powers that Jean was talking about. Remy would bet on it. He'd also bet that it was something that Spencer wasn't going to just open up and tell them, no matter what they thought. The kid obviously had a past and if there was something Remy could understand, it was demons in the past.

For now, Remy pushed those thoughts away, knowing that there was no point in stressing over them. Instead, he slung his arm around Jean's shoulder. "C'mon, chere, dere aint no point in standing here stressing. Why don't we go on down an make sure dat everyone's _bien, oui_?"

* * *

When Remy made his way into the Med Lab, he fought back the initial shudder that wanted to break free. This was one of his least favorite places to be. But he couldn't walk away without knowing how Spencer had fared. Not only did the man's story tug at him, he'd been inside of Spencer's mind now, had seen what he'd been through, and there was no way he could just walk away anymore. It just wasn't in him. Especially not when what had happened to the poor man had stirred up memories from Remy's own past that were eerily similar in some ways. He'd been so alone when it had happened to him and even though he knew Spencer wasn't alone here, he couldn't walk away. He needed to know how he was doing and if he was okay and maybe let him know that he wasn't alone here. Jean followed quietly behind him as he walked further into the room.

They found Logan, Hank and Spencer at the far bed closest to the wall. Spencer was lying there so still and so very pale. The white of the bed just seemed to make the paleness more noticeable. Looking down at his face, Remy thought to himself just how slender the man looked. His face was slightly gaunt and there were deep bags under his eyes. He definitely hadn't been eating well and probably not sleeping well, either. Hank was standing off to one side, looking at something on a machine which was attached to Spencer by little electrodes on his forehead. But it was Logan sitting beside the young man that really drew their eye. He was curled just slightly over the edge of the bed and one hand was gently brushing Spencer's hair back over and over much like he was petting him. There was a look on his face that Remy didn't think he'd ever seen there before. One of deep love, frustration and fear all rolled together into one. No one could look at the ferocious Wolverine right now and deny that he cared deeply about the person lying on the bed.

The lab stayed quiet even as Remy and Jean stopped at the foot of Spencer's bed. Remy just watched as Hank read through whatever was printed out on his machine. When he was done with that, he unhooked the electrodes from Spencer's forehead and placed them aside. "All seems to be well with him, Logan." Hank said in a low and gentle voice. "I believe he just pushed himself too far. What his body needs now is sleep, something I believe he has been sorely lacking lately."

Logan's only acknowledgement of that was a low grunt that couldn't been taken for agreement or annoyance. It was sort of hard to tell sometimes.

A quiet fell over the room again. Logan just sat there, continuing to pet at Spencer's hair. On silent feet Remy moved up to take Hank's place at the other side of the bed. He couldn't explain why he felt so drawn to Spencer. Yet, whatever it was, it was enough to have him here in the Med Lab despite the fact that it usually took serious threats or unconsciousness for Remy to step foot through the doors.

How long they stood there in silence, he didn't know. But the silence was finally broken by Logan's softly snarled words. "He tried to submit."

"What?" Jean asked him. She stepped around the bed, towards Logan, and placed one hand on his back. "What was that, Logan?"

Remy didn't need to hear the explanation. He knew; it made him sick, but he knew. He'd seen it in the memories just the same as Logan had. He'd recognized it, having made that same gesture himself before in circumstances that shared a few similarities.

A sigh that sounded more like a growl rumbled from Logan. "When they had him on…on the ground, he tipped his chin up, bared his throat. The way he did it wasn't from pain. It wasn't trying to move away. He was offering them his throat in a sign of submission. It's an animal's way of submitting, saying that they're the weaker, and pleading not to be hurt." The emotion in Logan's voice left him sounding harsh and gruff. "He was begging them to leave him alone in every way he knew how and the bastards, they didn't…they just…"

Spencer made a soft whimpering sound in his sleep and a line appeared between his eyebrows. Immediately Logan cut off what he'd been saying and he turned his full attention back to him. The hand that had been petting at Spencer now stroked over his cheek. "Hush, pup. Shh. It's fine. Everything's fine. Just go back to sleep." After a few moments of Logan's soothing words, Spencer seemed to relax once more and his expression smoothed back out. As soon as it did, Logan was turning around and his sharp eyes immediately found Hank. "I'm taking him outta here and back down to the boathouse. There're too many people up here for him while he's still healing. Is there anything I need to know or look out for?"

It was obvious to all present that there was absolutely no point in arguing whatsoever. Logan had that look on his face that clearly said he'd made up his mind and this was how things were going to be whether anyone else liked it or not.

Hank sighed and shook his head. "Nothing special. But he needs plenty of rest and quite a bit of food. Take advantage of his convalescence to try and get some weight on him."

"I've been trying for years, Blue." Logan said, with just a hint of his usual gruff humor.

With a touch that was far gentler than many would suspect from him, Logan carefully gathered up the sleeping form from the bed and cradled him close in his arms. Then, without even looking at anyone else, he turned around and carried Spencer straight out of the room, leaving behind three bemused people.

* * *

Back at the boathouse, Logan settled Spencer carefully into bed, taking the time to strip his boy down to his boxers so that he'd sleep comfortably. With each piece of clothing that he removed, he uncovered yet another bruise, another mark that he hadn't known was there, and he had to fight back yet another wave of anger. The meditative training he'd learned so long ago was the only thing that helped Logan to keep his emotions from bothering Spencer. Eventually, Logan got him stripped down and tucked in, and he was free to make his way downstairs and outside. He marched right out to the edge of the dock, the furthest he could comfortably bring himself to go from the boathouse right now, and he dropped himself down right there at the edge. Creaking boards reminded him to be a little more careful when he sat down.

He pulled his cigar from his pocket and clamped his teeth down on the end of it. The act of preparing the cigar and lighting it helped soothe down some of the more raw edges. It relaxed him enough to have him actually sitting back a little more comfortably against one of the posts. He reclined there, leaning one elbow on his bent knee, and stared out over the water while keeping an ear open to hear any sounds from Spencer.

Try as he might, he couldn't keep the memories from replaying themselves in his mind. What he'd seen today was something he knew he wouldn't soon forget. This wasn't the first time he'd been subjected to Spencer's brand of memories. It had happened before, accidentally, when Spencer was younger and Logan had woken him from a nightmare. Spencer had panicked at the touch and his shields had dropped just long enough for an avalanche of memories to slam into Logan's mind. They'd only been flashes, though. Brief moments, quickly cut off for the next. This…this was so much more. Not for the first time he wondered how Spencer survived with a mind like his that preserved his memories in such startling clarity. How did he get them to go away? Logan could see it all without even having to close his eyes. He could hear the voices, egging each other on, throwing out their cruel comments. He could hear the thoughts Spencer had heard, the vicious cruelty of his tormentors' minds.

He growled low in his chest and wished to God the bastards were alive so he could kill them all over again.

A familiar drawl drew Logan out of the memory. "Careful dere, _mon ami_. Y'r projecting enough anger any empat' wit'in fifty miles is gonna be feeling it." The advice was followed by a steady, pervading calm washing through him, pushing away the pain and horror that had been building. A hand appeared in front of him, palm open, and he looked up to find Remy smiling kindly down at him. "C'mon, Wolvie, up y' get."

Logan looked at him and shook his head before clasping the man's hand and pushing up to his feet. It amused him that Remy actually pulled to help him, like he could lift Logan's heavy frame. Then again, that amusement was probably Remy's goal. He was slick like that.

Now that Logan was on his feet, Remy clapped a hand on one of Logan's shoulders, the touch firm and comforting. "I know it don't feel like it, _mais_ it's gonna work out, _mon ami_. We'll help him get through dis, help him handle de deaths."

"We?" Logan hadn't missed that important little word.

The familiar smile that Remy flashed him was strained around the edges. It was no less warm, though. "Like Remy could walk away and not help, cher. C'mon now. Remy knows what y' saw. Saw it wit' him, every minute of it, and dere aint no way in hell dis Cajun can just walk way. 'Sides, dere aint another empath round dese parts to help him out and he's gonna need it. Has he ever had to rebuild his shields like dis b'fore?"

Memories tugged at Logan once more, older memories this time, and he knew how to push these ones back. He shoved them and the anger they brought with them far away. Deep inside, the Wolverine gave a low growl as he, too, remembered. Logan drew his cigar from his mouth and tapped some of the ashes down into the dark water. He watched them wash away and let sharp edge to his anger wash away with them. "Yeah. He's done it before." His tone left it clear that this was an off limits subject. True to form, Remy didn't press it. He might be the type to quiz you to death about things and nag you until you told him what he wanted to know, and he may have hoarded secrets like a dragon hoarding gold, but he knew how to read people and he knew when to back off and leave well enough alone.

In an abrupt change of subject, Logan looked back at Remy and asked "What about you, Gumbo? How you doing?"

Remy waved a hand negligently in the air. "Remy's fine, Wolvie. Don't y' worry bout him."

"I'm gonna worry 'bout him'." Logan drawled out, mocking Remy's speech. He turned his head and fixed his friend with his sharp blue stare. "Jeannie said you'd been dealing with some shit with Rogue, bad enough ya took off into town to hide out for a while, and then you're barely back here and suddenly ya get thrust into all this shit. I know ya went through more of Spencer's hell with him than the rest of us did. You were right in there with him, feeling it with him. So I'm gonna ask again—how you doing, Rem?"

The smile on Remy's face shifted. It changed to one that Logan hated to see there, one that he'd seen on Spencer's face one too many times. It was a smile that said that there was pain inside and that the pain was so familiar it had just become an accepted part of life. "Jus' a little lost in thought tonight, dat's all. Dis t'ing stirred up a few memories." Remy shrugged like it didn't matter. "It happens. Aint no big deal."

It _was_ a big deal, though. Logan knew just how big of a deal it really was. He knew quite a bit of Remy's past, though not all of it, and he knew that the scene they'd witnessed in Spencer's mind today was probably far too familiar for the Cajun. He hadn't even thought of the memories that it might stir up.

Part of Logan wanted to find some way to reassure Remy that things were okay and that he was okay now. But he wasn't a man who was good with words. He wasn't known for having the right words at the right time. To him, actions spoke so much clearer than any words. With that in mind, Logan just went with what felt right. He slung one arm around Remy's shoulders and turned them both in the direction of the boathouse. "Come on then, Gumbo. If we're all gonna have a fucked up night, we might as well stick down here together where we aint gonna disturb anyone else." It was a not-so-subtle way of offering Remy peace and the comfort of having a friend close by. He knew—only because Remy had told him once while extremely drunk—that his friend found it easier to sleep on bad nights if he had someone he trusted nearby. Someone like Logan. If that was all it took to help Remy have an easier night, Logan could definitely handle that.

The slanted look he got told him that Remy had seen right through his plan. But he didn't protest it or call Logan on it. He just watched him for a moment and then gave him one of those rare, almost shy smiles. "_Merci_." He said quietly.

"No problem. But you start snoring, you're sleeping downstairs."


	5. Chapter 5

Remy was gone before Logan even woke in the morning. How the little shit got past him, he had no idea. There was a faint scent of cigarettes to the air that told him that he hadn't left that long ago. He found out just where the man had gotten to when he went up to the main house for breakfast and heard Scott and Jean's voice coming out the window, talking about a mission that Remy had been sent out on. Information gathering, from the sounds of it. His area of expertise. "If everything goes smoothly, he'll be back by tonight, or early morning, he said." Scott was saying just as Logan opened the door and came inside. The two looked up at his entrance and Jean greeted him with her usual smile. "Morning, Logan. How's your friend doing?"

"Still sleeping when I left. He stayed out the whole night through." Which was a rarity for him, Logan knew. Nightmares had always been a part of Spencer's life. Logan had thought for sure that they'd have plenty to deal with after yesterday's events. But Spencer hadn't even stirred at all. He shook his head over it as he started down the hall to the kitchen. It was no real surprise that the wonder couple fell in beside him.

Logan may have been amazed that Spencer had gone through the night without nightmares. Jean, however, didn't look the least bit surprised. "He burned out a lot of energy and his body needs time to replace that. He'll wake when he's ready." She said.

The sound of Scott clearing his throat interrupted their conversation as the trio made it into the kitchen. "About your friend…" The field leader began. "The Professor was hoping we could meet up whenever you came up this morning so that we could talk a little about him."

Yeah, he'd been expecting this. There was no way he was going to get away with just keeping Spencer here without going through all this. The idea of having to explain Spencer and all his issues to Charles and, by extension, Scott, well, it had almost been enough to keep Logan from bringing Spencer here. There were only so many things that Logan was willing to answer about and there were going to be a quite a few questions he thought they might ask that he just wasn't going to answer. Some because he didn't believe it was any of their business and some of them because he just didn't think they'd need to know. But he knew they'd ask anyways. He could practically predict how the whole conversation would go.

But he'd needed the help with Spencer, so he hadn't really had a choice in bringing him here. Now it was time to pay the consequences of that. Better to just get it over with. Logan closed the cupboard he'd been reaching into and he turned around with a heavy sigh. "Fine. Let's get this done with, then. I wanna get outta here before the brat wakes up."

"You could at least sound less like I'm leading you off to be tortured." Scott said dryly.

"Who says you aren't?" Logan shot back.

The two men headed out of the kitchen together and down towards the Professor's office. It was no real surprise that he was in there waiting for them. Logan thought that he'd probably been waiting in there for a little while. He would've sensed Logan coming up to the house. A smile flitted across the man's face and Logan knew the thought was right. Logan rolled his eyes and strolled over to drop down on the couch near where Charles was sitting. "Stay outta my head, Chuck."

"I just got a passing thought, Logan, nothing more." Charles said simply.

Though Logan grunted at that, he didn't really have an issue with it. He wasn't really bothered by a stray thought here and there being picked up. After spending so much time with Spencer over the years, he'd gotten used to the occasional thought being picked up on. Hell, he knew that Spencer probably picked up on a whole lot more than he admitted to, he just didn't say anything about it. Dealing with that, though, had prepared Logan pretty well for dealing with Charles. While he still didn't really like having someone in his head, he and Charles both knew that a lot of his grumbles weren't really that serious. The others in the house didn't seem to realize it, though. Scott often got offended by what he considered Logan's rude behavior towards the Professor. He was scowling now as he sat down in a chair opposite Logan.

Just to irritate a little more, Logan leaned back and kicked his feet up on the edge of the coffee table, another thing he knew that Charles didn't really mind but that would get One-Eye going.

Scott's scowl grew a little more. "Are you _trying_ to be irritating this morning?"

"Naw." Logan drawled out lazily, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "It's just a natural gift."

"If you gentlemen are done?" Charles interrupted them. He was hiding a smile, but some of it leaked into his eyes. Logan saw it and grinned. Charles wasn't quite as stuffy as he came off as if you knew how to look for it. There was quite a bit of humor hidden in there. He and Logan had shared quite a few conversations that the man probably hadn't had with anyone else. Most all of the people here looked up to Charles in one form or another, putting him up on a bit of a pedestal or expecting certain things out of a distinguished professor. Logan did neither. He talked to the man the same as he talked to anyone else. He got the impression that Charles appreciated it more than he could say.

Adjusting in his seat, Charles turned a little more towards Logan and his expression turned serious once more. "I trust you know why it is I wanted to speak with you this morning."

"Yeah. You wanna know about the brat." Logan said. He thought longingly of the cigar resting in his breast pocket and resisted the urge to pull it out.

"I'm sure you understand that we have some questions after yesterday's events."

He blew out a breath and shifted around to get more comfortable. This was probably going to take a little bit. He lifted one arm and draped it over the back of the couch. "I figured ya might. Well, ask away. I'll answer what I can."

"I spoke with Jean and I've seen yesterday's events from her perspective." Charles said. "I also felt it myself when the thoughts poured out from him. I didn't see anything, but I imagine any telepath in the area felt the psionic disturbance. While Jean kept his memories private, I caught enough on my own to understand some of what's going on. I'm telling you this so you know that I do understand somewhat the situation here. What I want to know is what exactly you're hoping for here, Logan? What is it that you want from us in concern to your friend?"

That had Logan sitting up and staring sharply at the man. "Hey, now, wait a minute. I didn't come here asking for anything from any of you. I asked Gumbo for help, no one else. I brought the kid here because he wasn't getting better at home and I didn't know what else to do for him. If it's a problem, I'll pack our shit and get him out of here today once he wakes up."

"No, no." Charles quickly shook his head. "You misunderstand me. I wasn't trying to imply he wasn't welcome. I was asking because if he's staying for a while, I was going to suggest that maybe he come and speak with me about some of the things that happened."

He wasn't even finished before Logan started to shake his head. "Thanks, but no thanks, Chuck. The kid's already got a shrink back home."

"But they are there and I am here. And this is something that shouldn't be allowed to fester, Logan." Charles said gently.

Still, Logan declined. "He won't do it." He said bluntly. If they wouldn't listen to his polite answer, he'd give them a blunt one. "He says he's got too much stuff he can't say and too much he's legally not allowed to talk about, so he doesn't see a point in trying." _You can't get anything out of therapy if you can't tell your therapist the unvarnished truth_ Spencer was known to say. _There are things I will never be able to tell them and those things are where my main problems stem from, so what's the point in bothering to go at all?_

"Legally not allowed?" Scott asked.

Now came time for a part of things that Logan had a feeling wasn't going to go over well. Best to just get it done and over with. "Spencer's an FBI agent. He works at the BAU hunting serial killers, but I know he consults with other departments. He's a genius, so they call him in for help on codes and shit like that."

Sure enough, Scott didn't take well to that. "An _FBI agent?_ You brought an FBI agent here?"

"Scott." Charles cut him off in a quiet voice. His eyes were still on Logan and they were even more curious than before. "I confess, it's surprising. How did a young mutant come to work at the FBI?"

This wasn't the first time this question had ever been asked and Logan still didn't have a real answer for it. Not one that satisfied anyone. He gave a shrug of his shoulder and just said "It was what he wanted to do. He's wanted to do something to help people for as long as I've known him."

"How long have you known him?" Scott asked curiously. Apparently he was willing to let go of the 'FBI agent' part of things for now.

"I met him when he was nine." Remembering the sassy little kid he'd met brought a small smile to Logan's lips. The situation hadn't been the best, but good had come out of it in the long run. "He was a little spitfire. I was passing through Vegas and I came across this lady and her kid getting beat on. The lady was on the ground, unconscious, and this little spitfire of a kid being held against a wall, calling these big guys every nasty name he knew." The memory of that was enough to make Logan chuckle. "Kid used language that would've made a sailor proud. He was getting their attention off his Mom and onto him. One of em decked him, right in the face, and that was enough. I charged on in and scared the bastards off." Beat the hell out of three of them and sent the last one running without even having to touch him. "When I looked over at the kid, he was bleeding like a stuck pig but he was standing over his Mom and he had his little fists all balled up. He was terrified as hell but he was ready to try and protect her."

"Brave kid." Scott said softly.

"Yeah, he is." There was no denying that. Sometimes Logan wished there was just a bit more self-preservation mixed in with that bravery. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. Without lighting it, he stuck it between his teeth, the gesture alone enough to soothe him a little. Still, his tone was slightly more gruff than normal as he finished his story. "Took me a bit of fast talking to convince the kid I wasn't there to hurt them. Then his Mom woke up and she was dizzy enough that he had to accept my help to get her up. I got us a cab and got them home and Diana offered me a place to stay in return for my help. I stayed for two months with them before I moved on. But I made a point to come back and visit every six months or so, an I called all the time. The kid and I sort of, bonded while I was there. His Dad was rarely home at the time and he bailed on them not much later, when Spencer was about ten, so I think he kinda latched on to me like a father figure. We've been close ever since then."

A familiar touch against his mind had Logan breaking off conversation. He focused his attention inwards and a second later heard Spencer's mind voice, just a soft, hesitant _/Logan?_/

_/Hey, brat. You okay?/_ Logan thought back to him.

_/Yeah/_ There was a slight quiver to that thought that told Logan the kid wasn't as okay as he was trying to claim. _/Just woke up and was wondering where you were, that's all. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?/_

_/Naw. I'm just on my way back now with some breakfast. I'll be there in a minute or two/_

Logan pulled back out of the mental conversation and looked at the two men sitting near him. "We done here? The kid's up and I don't wanna leave him alone for long yet."

"Of course, of course. Go to him, Logan, we can speak more later." Charles reassured him.

Wasting no more time, Logan pushed up off the couch and strode out of the room, wanting to get some food together and get down to Spencer.

* * *

The first thing that Spencer became aware of as he woke up was a steady pounding in his temples. The next thing he noticed was that his shields were so low as to be almost nonexistent. Only the innermost layer still held stronger, the layer that kept him protected so that no one could get in. But the layers that protected him from feeling others, the ones that kept thoughts and emotions from coming in at him, were shot to hell, to borrow a phrase from Logan.

Open as he was, it took no time for him to realize that wherever he was, he was alone. The bed he was in wasn't familiar at first and the place around him was far too empty. Spencer did the only thing he could think of to do. Immediately, without even sitting up in bed or opening his eyes all the way, he reached out to try and find Logan. The relief he felt when he found the man's mind was immense. He sent a hesitant _/Logan?_/

Logan's reply was almost instantaneous. _/Hey, brat. You okay?/_

A bit embarrassed now at his slight panic, he sent back a _/Yeah/_ Then, because he knew Logan wouldn't accept just that as an answer, he added _/Just woke up and was wondering where you were, that's all. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?/_

_/Naw. I'm just on my way back now with some breakfast. I'll be there in a minute or two/_

Spencer pushed himself up out of bed now that he knew that Logan was on his way back. He wanted to go to the bathroom before Logan returned with breakfast. Only, he hadn't counted on just how physically weak his body was. He was prepared for how weak he felt mentally, that was only to be expected after everything he'd been holding in and the massive purge that he'd done, but he hadn't stopped to think about the mass amounts of energy he'd let out and the exercise he'd done with a body that had had little nourishment or sleep lately. Pushing himself up to a sitting position was enough to tell him just how very weak he was at the moment. Slender arms shook and almost wouldn't support him. Then, when he finally got upright, he tried to stand up at the edge of the bed and he had to grab hold of the footboard just to keep from sinking down to the ground.

Thankfully, the bathroom was just across the hall from his room. Any further and Spencer doubted he would've made it. As it was, he had to hold on to the wall until he got to his door and he stumbled his way across from one door to the other. Just the simple act of using the bathroom and washing his hands had him exhausted. He had opened the door and was preparing to try and make the trek back to that gloriously soft bed when he heard the door downstairs open and close. Spencer debated for a second before leaning against the bathroom doorframe and simply waiting. Logan would be up the stairs in a second. Better to just be waiting here for him than for the man to find Spencer stumbling and tripping his way across the hall.

Sure enough Logan appeared just a moment later at the base of the stairs. He looked up and caught sight of Spencer and he shook his head as he hurried up the stairs. "Idiot. Couldn't you wait till I got back?"

"Probably not." Spencer admitted. His voice was lower than normal, just slightly hoarse from his dry throat. But his lips curved into a shadow of a smile. "It was rather…urgent."

Logan's snicker told him the man understood that. Without another word about it, he came up and caught Spencer up carefully with one arm to help him across the hall. Neither man commented on the flinch that Spencer instinctively gave. They ignored it and just continued into the room. Logan carefully got Spencer over to the bed and settled back in and then he lifted up the bag that he had on his other arm and he set it down on the bed. "Breakfast."

"Good. I'm starved." Spencer shifted himself back a little until he was sitting propped up against the headboard with pillows behind his back.

Once he was settled in, Logan sat down at the foot of the bed, careful not to jostle him. He moved the bag so it sat between them and started to pull things out from inside. "Good thing you are, cause you'd be eating either way." He pulled out a breakfast sandwich wrapped in a paper towel and handed it over to Spencer. "Jeannie made these up for us. Breakfast is one of her specialties. I want the whole thing gone, brat."

"Yes, _Pater_." Spencer put just enough sass into his tone to earn him a mock growl.

It was nice to just sit there in the quiet of the morning and enjoy breakfast together. Though Logan never minded if Spencer jabbered at him, the two men often enjoyed times together where neither of them spoke. Besides, Spencer was enjoying it while he could. He knew it wasn't going to last. There was no doubt in his mind that Logan was going to want to discuss everything. He just wished he knew how he was going to answer it all. He doubted Logan was going to like the answers he had to give.

Amazingly enough Logan held out until their breakfast was completely gone and cleaned up. He took the garbage downstairs and came back up with a great big glass of apple juice. He set it down on the nightstand beside Spencer and then, instead of sitting at the foot of the bed, he nudged Spencer over until there was enough space and he sat down right beside him. Shoes were kicked off and then he stretched his legs out alongside Spencer's. They were so close their hips bumped together.

The look in those bright blue eyes had Spencer sighing. "My reprieve's over, isn't it?"

"Yep." Logan didn't even try to deny it. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the headboard. "You know we gotta talk about this, brat. You've got to talk to someone and it's not like you'll talk to anyone else."

"And if I told you that I really don't need to?" Spencer tried hesitantly. He should've known better.

"I'd say you're full of shit."

Sighing, the young genius ran a hand through his hair. He deliberately avoided Logan's eyes by staring down at the footboard. "I thought you might say something of the like. I don't know what you want me to say, though, Logan. I know Hotch told you about Georgia, so there's nothing there that I can say that hasn't already been said, and you saw my memories of the…the event that happened. You felt what I felt. What exactly is it that I'm supposed to talk about here that you don't already know?"

"Why don't we start with how you're feeling? You've been playing zombie for a while, but you're back in the land of the living now. How are you?"

"Tired." Spencer answered promptly. It was the most honest answer, too. "Mentally and physically tired."

Logan nodded at that. "You did a lot there, kid. I figured it'd drain ya."

Drained was a good way to describe how he felt. It was tempting now that he had a full stomach to actually curl up again and go right back to sleep. He didn't think that Logan would allow it yet, though. He wanted answers and he deserved them. But Spencer didn't know what it was he was supposed to say here. He didn't know _how_ to say it. All of his thoughts and feelings on the subject were so jumbled it was hard to pin them all down. Biting his lip, he tried to sort through and find the words that he needed. What words could he put to this?

The bed shifted a little as Logan uncrossed his arms and lifted the one closest to Spencer. He reached out with it and hooked it around the young genius's shoulders, using that to tug him in. Spencer didn't resist the tug. He shifted his weight around and let Logan pull him in until he was snuggled right up against the man's side just like a child. That was how he often felt with Logan. It was why he called him Pater. Logan was more of a father figure to Spencer than his actual Dad ever had been. With Logan, he found all those fatherly things that William Reid had never given to him. Comfort, affection, honest love, and a strength to hold him up when things knocked him down. With Logan, he knew he could curl up against the man and be safe and sheltered for a while, held by a man who always seemed so indestructible to him. Resting on that solid chest, he felt more at peace than he had since before Georgia.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to use mind-speech here. Logan had been uncomfortable in the early years with having telepathic conversations but he'd mellowed quite a bit over the years and now neither one of them thought anything of it. It was just as easy, sometimes easier, than using regular speech. Especially when it came to emotional moments like this. His empathy gave his mind-speech an added layer that let the person he was talking to know more than just the words he was sending. _/I don't know what to do, Logan/_ He sent to the man. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent of Logan's plaid shirt. Cigars, detergent, and an undertone of that earthy scent that always made Spencer think of the Wolverine. _/Everything's just so messed up. It seems like I went on that case in Georgia and everything just went downhill from there. I messed up. I messed up so bad/_

"What do you mean, kid?" Logan's voice was a low rumble under Spencer's ear.

_/The Dilaudid/_ Those two words were sent hesitance and yet a longing that he couldn't quite control.

Logan's arm tightened briefly around him. "Ah." He drew in a breath that inflated his chest and then he blew it back out. "Yeah, you fucked up there, no denying that. It was a stupid thing to do, Spencer. You know better. What were you thinking, getting hooked on that shit?"

That was another thing that he loved and sometimes hated about Logan. He didn't sugarcoat things for you. If you talked to him about something you had to be prepared for his unvarnished opinion.

_/I was thinking that I liked how numb it made me feel. It…it kept the dark at bay. For just a little while I could pretend I was almost normal/_

"Aw, kid."

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the waves of emotions. His, and Logan's. They filled him and his fragile shields couldn't stand against it. He was projecting to Logan and he knew it, he just couldn't stop it. _/I'm such an idiot, Logan. If I hadn't been high, I could've stopped them. I could've kept them from doing that to me. But I was too high and I couldn't get my defenses up and then they had me and that, that path, he was in my head and I just, I couldn't keep him out. I swore I wouldn't let anyone do that to me ever again and I did, I let it happen. I just had to get high and I ended up paying the price for it/_ The thoughts poured from him completely unfiltered. He couldn't stop them, couldn't hold anything back. Not even the thoughts he wished Logan wouldn't hear. _/Maybe I deserve it. It's my fault for being so stupid. It's my punishment/_

The deep rumble of a growl cut him off. Logan's grip on him tightened and he found himself being pulled in even closer. "The hell with that, Spencer. This isn't your fault and it isn't your _punishment_. You know better than that. These things, they don't have any reasons. They don't have any purpose. An yeah, maybe you could've fought em off it you hadn't been high, but maybe not. Maybe the path could've still overpowered you. Maybe the others would've shielded themselves good enough. You don't know. You'll never know, and if you spend your life trying to second guess it and think of all the maybes, you're just gonna make yourself miserable. What happened to you was a horrible fucking thing, but you survived, kid, and that's what you gotta focus on. Surviving."

Logan made it sound so simple. _You survived_. _/I didn't just survive, Pater. I killed them/_ The agony in that thought coursed through them both, mixed with liberal amounts of guilt and pain.

"You did." Logan agreed. "And it aint no different than any time you've killed on the job."

_/It's not the same/_

"It is. Tell me, if you came up on a group of guys raping someone and you had your gun and told them to stop and they didn't, they just kept hurting the person, what would you do?" He paused just for a second to let his words sink in and then answered his own question. "You would've shot, Spencer. And it would've been the right thing to do. These guys were killing you. All you did was defend yourself."

_/It doesn't feel that simple. It hurts/_

Sighing, Logan moved his hand and smoothed back some of Spencer's hair, ending up with his hand cupping the back of Spencer's head. "I know, kid."

There were no more words between them. No words, no thoughts. Just comfort. Logan offered comfort in the only ways he knew how, by sitting there and holding him and by calming his own emotions so that Spencer would have a steady presence beside him, and Spencer drew it all in. He let it all wrap around him until he felt completely cocooned there. Then, secure in his _Pater's_ embrace, he drifted into a fitful sleep.

Logan looked down at the son of his heart and he tried not to let out another sigh. So much pain all packed into one slender young man. So many things had happened to him, too much for one person to bear. He'd lived through more in half his life than most did their whole lives. How he'd managed to survive it without breaking, Logan never knew. But he would always be there for him to provide the support he needed to make it through.


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn't until almost two days exactly after their session in the Danger Room that Spencer saw Remy once more. The young genius was lying in bed reading when soft rapping at his door had him looking up from the book he was holding. There was no need for the person to announce who they were. After recent events, this was one presence that Spencer would always recognize now. He sat up a little straighter and smoothed out his blankets before calling out "Come in!"

The door slid open and Remy's head peeked around the edge. When he saw Spencer sitting up in bed, a wide grin spread across his face. "_Bonsoir_, _mon ami_! Wolvie said y'd probably be awake up here, an a mite bit bored, too."

Wasn't that just the understatement of the year? "I've been confined to this bed, only allowed to leave to use the restroom, for forty six hours and thirty two minutes. _Bored_ is putting it mildly."

There was a bit of humor that danced through Remy's eyes. Still, as he stepped into the room, he reminded Spencer "Dat was a hell of a t'ing y' did. Y'r shield's gonna take time to fix, _mon ami_. Y'r gonna be raw fo' a while an Logan's just trying to keep y' safe."

Sighing, Spencer sat back on the bed, his head turning to look out the window. "I know. But Logan is keeping me confined to this bed and I think I'm going to slowly go insane. It is a distinct possibility, you know."

Without a single speck of hesitation, Remy walked right over and stretched himself out on the foot of Spencer's bed, much to the other man's amusement. "A distinct possibility, hm?" The Cajun drawled out. He put his elbow on the bed and his head in his hand, staring at Spencer, who was sitting at the head of the bed, propped up by pillows.

All Spencer could do in reaction to Remy was smile. There was just something about him that was so easy going. There wasn't even any tension in Spencer at having someone so close in his personal space. He had worried that would be a problem after…recent events. _Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he was inside of my mind. I know he's not going to hurt me_ Spencer thought to himself. _I felt enough of him to know that he's a good person. I'm safe around him. Maybe that's why I don't feel worried about his closeness._ "Yes." He eventually said, drawing back to the conversation. "Individuals with a higher IQ are more prone to mental illness, as are mutants with telepathic or empathic abilities. Not to mention, I have the genetic predisposition because there's mental illness in my family. Really, when you look at it, it's rather miraculous that I've managed to stay as sane as I have. Logan really shouldn't be trying to push my luck any further." With Logan's help, Spencer had learned to be able to relax about this topic, to even joke about it a bit, instead of finding himself terrified of it all the time. Sometimes humor was the best coping mechanism.

Instead of going blank as some did when Spencer rambled, even just a little, Remy threw his head back and laughed. The sound was warm and rich, slightly like the Cajun himself. When his mirth subsided, he looked back to Spencer and grinned. "T'ink y' need to work on dat argument, _mon ami_. Wolvie aint gonna be falling fo' something like dat."

"I know." Spencer gave a long suffering sigh. "I already tried."

That just made Remy laugh again. His eyes twinkled as he looked around the room. "Don't he give y' nothing to do with y'r days? Dere's no TV in here, no bookshelves. Nothing!"

Blush stole into Spencer's cheeks and he looked down at his lap, fiddling with the seam of his pajama pants. "I sort of already read all the books he owns as well as those of mine that he brought with him, and he said that he's not allowed to take books from the library out of the mansion, so I can't read those." Sighing, he looked to the nightstand. "He brought me a deck of cards, but as he won't play with me, I get rather bored. There are only so many games of solitaire one can play before the exercise becomes mind numbing."

"Cards?" That had Remy perking up. He quickly scrambled to an upright position, brushing a hand absently over his hair to get it out of his face. A few strands still dangled there. Spencer had to resist the sudden urge to reach out and tuck them behind Remy's ear. _Where did that thought come from?_ Embarrassed, he chewed on his lip, watching as Remy grew rather excited. "Y' wanna play a game with me? Hasn't been a good game at de mansion in a while! Remy's feeling withdrawals from not playing."

The word 'withdrawals' had Spencer's stomach clenching briefly. He forced the tension to fade away and pushed the thoughts that it evoked back as well. _Focus on the good, not the bad, just like Logan says. _He'd focused on the prospect of a card game instead. For a second Spencer debated warning Remy about his skills. But then he decided against it. He was desperate for something to do and a game of cards sounded like the perfect thing and he didn't want to scare off his opponent by making him think he had no chance of winning. Leaning over, he drew the fresh pack from the nightstand and tossed it to Remy, who easily caught it. "They're fresh, so shuffle well." Spencer warned him.

He was amused to watch how expertly Remy shuffled. Logan had already told him how much Remy enjoyed cards. This seemed natural from a native of New Orleans. He'd also told Spencer that cards were 'Gambit's' typical fighting tool. _There's a chance I might actually be challenged in this. It's been a while since I've played a real challenger._

The two started their first round of poker, playing conservatively, observing the other. By the time the third game started, they upped their game a little. By the fifth, it was a full out war.

When Logan came back to the boathouse, it was after dinner and the two had lost count of the games they'd played, but they were having a blast. As Spencer won, yet again, Logan stepped into the bedroom. Remy flung himself against the footboard and let out a dramatic sigh. "Y' win again, _homme_." He tipped his head back just enough to look over at Logan and mock glare at the man. "Y' never told Remy dat Spencer be such a good poker player, cher!"

"He was born and raised in Vegas, Gumbo. What the hell else did you expect?" was Logan's response. The older man moved to the bed, looking down at them and shaking his head. "I see you were entertained."

"At least someone came to see me." Spencer pretended to grumble. His mood was too good to be truly annoyed about being mostly confined to bed. But he wasn't one to pass up an opportunity, especially when it was so nicely presented to him. He slanted Logan a look through his long bangs and put on a low grade pout. "My mind doesn't do well with nothing to occupy it, _Pater_. Nor with being alone." He kicked the pout up a notch. "I finished the last two books in the house, even."

He barely resisted a cheer when Logan gave him a sympathetic grimace. "You never have done well with being bored or alone. Usually that's when you end up in the most trouble." He reached a hand out, ruffling Spencer's hair. "And I haven't smelled anything to show you've been sneaking out on me here. I guess I could talk to the others, see if I can get people to come down and visit you while you're here."

Horror crossed Spencer's face. "I am not sitting in this bed and visiting a group of people I do not know in my pajamas, Logan! You just remove that thought from your mind right this instant!" He settled back against the bed with a stubborn look he'd learned from Logan. "I don't see why I'm not allowed to at least wander the grounds. The weather is warm so it's not going to freeze me if I step outside. I'll come into contact with others, yes. That is inevitable. But I'll never be able to prove that my shields are functioning or test out their strength if I'm not allowed around anyone!"

"Spencer, you collapsed from exhaustion and almost blasted apart some of your own shields. You've only been in this bed for _a day and a half_ and Blue says you should be in the Med Lab and not here! If you think I'm going to just let you wander the grounds alone, you've got another thing coming. Anything could happen to you!"

"So you expect me to be babysat? I am not a child! I do not need a keeper!"

Logan crossed his arms and growled. "You'll have a damn keeper if I say you will, pup!"

Setting his face into a sulk, Spencer slid down against his pillows a little. "Fine." He grumbled in annoyance. "But I'm picking my bodyguard!"

"Fine. Who do you want?"

Spencer didn't even hesitate. "Remy." He looked to the Cajun and tried to keep a straight face. "So long as you're not busy, that is, Remy."

There was a devilish smile on Remy's lips. "_Non, mon ami, _he aint busy_. _If Remy needs to do something, he'll just bring y' back here. Y' can follow me round during de day and Remy'll show y' round de place, introduce y' to people. An if y' start to have problems, Remy be de perfect one to see it an get y' outta dere."

Nodding, Spencer picked at a card on the bed. "It's settled, then. Do I get some kind of dinner now? I'm starving!"

Logan gave a shake of his head and another growl before setting off to get Spencer's dinner that he'd brought back for him. In the hallway, he swore he heard Spencer say "You owe me twenty more bucks." But he didn't allow himself to stop and think about what it was for. _Probably better off not knowing_ he admitted to himself.

* * *

The arrangement suited Spencer perfectly. For the next few days, he carefully started to make his way around the mansion and its grounds. He learned not only the layout of the place, but he also met the residents. Meeting new people with Remy at his side proved to be quite a bit easier than meeting new people on his own. Spencer found that he didn't have to really worry about making idle conversation with total strangers. No, Remy took care of that all on his own. He'd make the introductions and then he'd spend most of the time chatting with the person while still making sure to keep Spencer drawn into the conversation. He had a feeling that Remy was doing it on purpose but he was too grateful for it to be annoyed in any way.

His shields seemed to be withstanding the pressure okay. Little by little, day by day, they were regaining their strength. There were a few times in the first two days that Remy had to quietly take Spencer away from groups when things started to get too much. Spencer didn't even have to mention it. Remy saw the signs and recognized them and he got Spencer away as quickly and discreetly as possible. They'd take a little time for Spencer to get himself under control again and then they'd once more make their way back out with the others.

It amazed Spencer that no one seemed to question his presence here. No one asked about why he was here, or what had happened when he'd first arrived—though he knew from a stray thought or two he caught that quite a few had felt the psionic backlash his first day here. They didn't ask how long he was staying, which was good because he had no idea. He vaguely remembered Logan at his apartment, telling him he'd arranged time off and was taking him somewhere, but he didn't remember if Logan had said how long he had off, and Spencer didn't want to ask. He didn't want to think about what was going to happen when he went back home. He didn't want to think about the kinds of questions that his friends would have for him.

The only thing that people here seemed to be curious about was his relationship with Logan. Everyone had questions about that. They wanted to know how he knew him, how they met, how long they'd known one another, and did he have any stories about Logan to tell them? The questions only seemed to grow once they saw the two men interacting together.

It _really_ amazed him that no one seemed to question his…skittishness, for lack of a better word. Though he'd been working through his problems inside his head for a while now, Spencer was living back in the real world once more and he was forced to confront the repercussions of those events and the impact they had on his day to day life. He was even more skittish than usual about casual touching. Having someone get too close was enough to send the panic skittering along his spine. Luckily for him, Remy seemed to understand that without Spencer ever having to say anything about it. He never called him on it either, for which Spencer was grateful. It made it easier to ignore it.

There were other things he couldn't ignore, things that he couldn't make go away yet couldn't bring himself to talk about, either. But it wasn't the rape that haunted his nightmares each night. No, it was the death. It was the deaths of his tormentors that plagued him in the wee hours of the morning when he ripped out of sleep with a scream caught tight in his throat. They weren't the first deaths he'd caused. They weren't even the first deaths his powers had caused. But it never got any easier. And honestly, Spencer didn't want it to. The day he stopped feeling something for taking a life was the day he became no better than the monsters he'd hunted.

For three days Spencer had an easy, relaxing recovery. Most of it was spent either with Logan, or in Remy's pleasant company, or with the three of them. Spencer found himself really enjoying their time together and enjoying the friendship that seemed to have sprung to life between he and Remy and it seemed to please Logan, too. Spencer didn't understand how he felt so easy around him after so short a time of knowing him. Maybe it had something to do with Remy having been inside his head and having stood at Spencer's side, so to speak, through it all. They'd sort of bonded over that. Spencer knew that he was safe with Remy, that the man was trustworthy, and he knew that when he started to get a little skittish or a little withdrawn, Remy didn't just see it, he _understood_ it in ways that told Spencer he wasn't the only one to have lived through horrors.

Between Logan and Remy, things went pretty easily for Spencer. But he'd known it wouldn't last long. He'd known that, eventually, someone was going to come to him and they were going to have questions about what had happened in the room Spencer now knew was called the Danger Room. They'd have questions about the TK he'd showed. Though he hadn't used it since then, which was normal for him, it was too late to keep it secret. He'd been seen using it already. It was just a matter of time before someone finally questioned him.

It happened in the middle of his fourth day of recovery, just six days after he'd first come to this place. Spencer and Remy were in the kitchen so that Spencer could have his mid-morning snack. His recovery seemed to require quite a bit more food than he was used to eating. Hank said it was perfectly normal. Spencer was just annoyed by it. He wasn't a big eater to begin with and this constant hunger was a giant pain. He was grumbling a little about it now as he perused the cupboards. Remy was right beside him, sitting on the kitchen counter carving at one of his fingernails with a pocket knife. "Y' act like it's such a hardship to come in here and have a snack, cher." The Cajun teased him.

Spencer rolled his eyes and moved to the next cupboard. Nothing in there looked that appealing. "It's just frustrating to feel hungry so constantly. It's finally starting to ease, but Dr. McCoy says it could take another week, maybe longer, before I even back out completely." He pushed the cupboard shut and blew out a breath. "And nothing in here looks all that appetizing."

The sudden feel of someone against his fragile shields had Spencer's head snapping up in a way that reminded Remy of Logan when he caught a scent in the air. Spencer felt who a person coming towards them and he quickly double and triple checked his shields to make sure they'd be able to stand up against someone's presence. When he realized who it was, he eased a little. It was Scott coming towards them. The man was pretty talented at shielding his mind.

A minute later the kitchen door opened and Scott came strolling in. The man caught sight of Spencer and he lit up just the slightest bit in a way that let Spencer know that Scott had been looking for him. Yet, to his surprise, Scott didn't immediately launch in to whatever it was that he wanted. He strolled up to the island as causal as could be and he smiled at them. "Hey, you two. How's it going?"

"We're _bien_, Scotty." Remy answered for them both. His lips twitched slightly and Spencer caught his friend's amusement at Scott's attempt at casualness. "How about y'?"

"Not too bad, really." Scott said.

Suddenly, a wave of tiredness ran through Spencer. He knew Scott was here to talk to him. He was sure he knew what it was about, too. Why waste all this time playing games? Why didn't the man just come right out and say it? With a sigh, Spencer closed his eyes for just a second, gathering himself. This wasn't going to be fun. But, he'd known it would happen. Opening his eyes once more, he straightened up and tried to keep his control tightly over himself. For just a second he ignored Remy, who still sat on the counter watching the two of them. All his attention was focused on Scott's face. "What is it you need, Cyke?" The nickname slipped out; he'd been spending enough time with Remy that he tended to think of the people here with the names that Remy called them.

Scott grimaced slightly and tipped his head to look at Remy. "You two have been spending way too much time together." He said with a sigh. Remy just grinned at him. With a shake of his head, Scott turned back to Spencer. "Why don't you come down to my office with me and we'll talk, Spencer? I don't think we need to talk about this in the kitchen. We'd never get enough privacy to say anything."

A small surge of panic flared inside of Spencer. Logan was on security detail right then, which meant that he wasn't here to run interference for Spencer. For a moment he felt ashamed of needing someone to run interference for him. He was a grown man, a powerful mutant, and a trained FBI agent! He did _not_ need someone to watch out for him like he was just a pup. But, all the logic in the world didn't take away the panic at the idea of being alone in an office with a man he didn't know well.

Forcing his body straight and his chin down in a posture that reminded the other two so much of Logan as he was preparing to go into battle, the young man said "I understand. Let's go."

When they started to move, Remy hopped off the counter, moving silently with them, giving Spencer a wink behind Scott's back. The trio went down the hall, finally reaching Scott's office. When the older man opened the door to gesture Spencer in, he finally noticed Remy. "Gambit?"

"_Oui_, Scotty?" Remy asked innocently. He followed in behind Spencer and walked right to one of the chairs by the desk, casually taking a seat. Spencer felt a huge surge of gratitude as he took the other seat. He wasn't going to have to be alone for this. There was someone with him that had proved to him that he could trust him. He wasn't alone.

Scott shook his head and apparently decided not to debate it. He shut his door and went to his desk, sitting in his chair behind it and looking at the two before him. It was difficult for Spencer not to squirm underneath that steady gaze. Even with the visor on, Spencer could tell that Scott was looking right at him. _Let's just get this over with, already! Come on, Scott!_ His mind snarled. He had to take a deep breath to bring himself under control and make sure he didn't inadvertently project those thoughts.

"I assume you know what kinds of questions we have, Dr. Reid." Scott used his title, affording him a small amount of respect in this. Spencer recognized the tactic. Try to put the other person at ease, show them that you weren't judging so that maybe they'd get comfortable with you. Did this man really think it would work? He made himself stay calm and simply replied with "Yes."

After waiting to see if Spencer would elaborate, Scott finally spoke again when it became apparent that Spencer would offer up nothing willingly. "Jean told me some of what happened in the Danger Room from her perspective. I've also watched the video. There are some things that don't add up and, if you're going to stay here, we'd like to get some answers. The first I want to ask is simple. What are your mutations?"

"Telepathy and empathy." Spencer answered promptly. He watched as Scott waited for him to continue.

There was another long pause. It was slightly satisfying for Spencer to see the small muscle in Scott's jaw tic a little with his frustration. "I told you, Dr. Reid. I saw the video. Are you sure you don't want to change your answer at all?"

Spencer shook his head. "No. My answer is clear and correct."

"Then how do you explain the obvious telekinesis I saw on that video? That the others saw as they watched you?" Scott demanded. A hint of anger showed in his voice.

Sitting back in his chair, Spencer folded his hands in his lap, every single move deliberate. "Your question asked me what _my_ mutations are, sir. I answered that question honestly. The TK is not _my_ specific mutation and therefor was not part of the answer to the original question. If that's what you wished to know about, why did you not simply ask?" If Scott thought he was going to manipulate this interrogation to go the way that he wanted, he had another thing coming.

That muscle in Scott's jaw gave another tic. "Explain to me how you have a mutation that isn't yours, then."

"It was given to me." Spencer answered. The simplest answer for the simplest question. He didn't want to have to tell this story. It was one of the last things in the world he wanted to tell. This subject touched far too close on other moments, things that he never wanted to think about. If he could infuriate Scott enough, maybe he'd manage to distract him from it enough that he might get out of here after getting his ass kicked, but without having to explain.

Scott looked incredulous. "Mutations cannot simply be given away!" he exclaimed. His hands clenched on either armrest of his chair. "We need this answer if we're going to let you stay here. Otherwise, I'm going to inform Logan that you need to leave. Whether you go home or not would be up to you, but I won't have someone here that could potentially harm the people here."

That shot Spencer's temper up. "You think I'd hurt these people?" He hissed out. His temper bubbled up in him, pushing against the control he was trying to exert. He felt Remy stir next to him, reaching for him, but Spencer brushed his hand away, locking gazes with Scott once more. "I would never set out to hurt anyone here, Scott Summers. How dare you imply I would? You don't know me well enough to be making assumptions like that."

"Maybe not intentionally, but if you lose control the way you did in the Danger Room then lots of people could be hurt around you. Something was done to you to give you the TK and who knows what else could have been done at the same time! I have people to look out for. I can't afford to be nice or polite about this."

Furious, Spencer launched up from his chair, pacing to the far end of the office. Most of his fury came from the fact that he knew Scott was right in this. He had every right to protect the people around him. But Spencer didn't want to have to tell this. He didn't want to have to say this to anyone. And once he told his story, they would most likely send him packing anyways! He spun around to face Scott once more, trying to keep everything locked tight. Maybe there was a way to say this without saying everything. Maybe he could get away with just the bare bones. But his temper was still there just enough that it made his words slightly biting as he tried one last time to prevent this from happening. "You have no idea what it is you so casually ask me to tell you. You can't even begin to comprehend what you're asking me to relive."

"I'm not asking you to relive anything." Scott said in a much calmer voice. "I would never ask anyone to relive their demons. But I need some kind of answer, Dr. Reid."

"But you _are_ asking me to relive this. A telepath and empath with an eidetic memory? I am so tired of people not realizing the implications behind that." He brought a hand up, running it through his hair in frustration. He didn't give Scott a chance to say anything else. Best to just get this done. His eyes drifted over Remy and he drew strength from the supportive look the man was giving him. It helped him to put his nightmare into words. "When I was thirteen I was kidnapped by someone far more evil than you could ever understand. I was a science experiment to him. A case study. My particular mutation combination was fascinating, as was my strength. He used other mutants to break me down and to draw everything he could from my mind. He sought to shatter my sense of self and turn me into a mindless drone for him to use as a weapon against the world. I ended up making a box in my mind to lock away my sense of self so that all he dealt with was a robotic mutant that said nothing and obeyed his every command."

Spencer turned again, not wanting to watch their faces anymore. He jerked his shields tight so he couldn't feel what they felt. He didn't want to feel their horror. Didn't want their pity.

"He had a mutant woman that could touch someone and take their powers as well as touch another and give them those same powers. She was simply a conduit. When I was given the telekinesis of a strong mutant, I knew it was my only chance to get free. I unlocked that box and I escaped. With the chaos of my escape, the mutant woman attacked an unstable mutant, getting herself disintegrated so that she could never be used again. And I ran. I was fourteen when I got free and I've never looked back. But the TK stuck with me. Maybe it has something to do with her dying before the effects wore off; I don't know."

The temper in him was fueled by old pain now. Spencer tried to wrap his arms around his waist and hold himself together, but it wasn't working. Fury won out. He turned and pinned Scott in place with a hard stare, cutting off anything he'd been about to say. "Does that satisfy your curiosity? There is nothing else extra in me. The only thing that was added was the TK of another mutant given to me by a woman who then committed suicide in front of me. Are you happy that I told you this story? Does it satisfy you?" His lip curled up in a sneer. "This interrogation is finished."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Reid." Scott told him gently.

Spencer paused. "No, no you're not. At least, not sorry about getting the story. You might actually be sorry about the pain inflicted."

"I am. I didn't mean to hurt you with this. It wasn't supposed to feel like an interrogation to you."

Spencer looked at the older mutant and felt some of his temper calm. _You would have done almost the same in Scott's shoes and you know it_. "I'm a trained FBI agent. I know what interrogation is like. Not only that, but I'm a profiler. I worked with David Rossi, the man who practically wrote the FBI interrogation training manuals. I'm not one of these people here that trust in their friendship with you and won't understand what's happening. Maybe you should remember that in our next conversation." He took a deep breath and tried to soften his gaze. "I might like you, at some point. I might even grow to respect you. I do understand why you had to do this. But it doesn't make the story any less painful. I apologize for my temper; it's more directed to the situation than to you."

"I understand."

Nodding, Spencer turned and left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Logan headed away from the Danger Room after yet another training session. A smirk was on his lips and an extra little swagger to his walk. Today had been a good session. He saw Scott heading past him, going up to the control room to review things, and the bruise standing out so brightly on the field leader's face only made Logan's smirk grow. Yeah, it had been a damn good session today. They'd just intended on having fun in there, playing a simple game of capture the flag to help them unwind while still teaching them to work together as a team. Scott was probably regretting putting himself and Logan on opposite teams. That bruise on his face wasn't the only one that Logan had given him.

Maybe it would teach him to lay off of kids that weren't his. Logan had been furious when Remy had told him about the meeting between Scott and Spencer. It had taken almost all of Remy's skill to keep Logan from racing out to find him right then and there. But he'd held back. Not for Scott's sake, but for Spencer's. It would've embarrassed him and upset him if Logan had gone and kicked Scooter's ass over that. Normally, Logan would've shrugged and done it anyways, but Spencer had been through enough shit lately and he didn't need Logan adding to it. So he'd restrained himself. For two days, he'd restrained himself. But once they got into that Danger Room and Logan had been given the perfect opportunity and excuse to exact a little revenge, he'd gladly taken it. Any bruises Scott wore could be passed off being from their training. If Logan was pretty sure that Scott knew the truth, which the looks he'd given Logan suggested that he did, well, all the better. Let the man realize just how far out of line he'd stepped. No one messed with Logan's pup. No one.

It was his pup he hunted down now. Even though Spencer seemed to be doing better lately, he still worried about him. Jean had told him that the release Spencer had had in the Danger Room had actually been really healthy. According to her, "I think ti might've actually helped him process it. He not only faced it, he did so in a safe and secure way, and then he openly expressed his emotions about it. He sort of popped that proverbial cork. That's a good step."

Well, whatever it was that was going on, Logan was grateful. He knew that Spencer wasn't healed, not by a long shot. Though the bruises and such had all pretty well faded away, what was inside still needed to heal. More often than not Spencer had nightmares at night. Only once had it been bad enough for him to actually come seek Logan out. Like a little kid he'd crept up to the bed and climbed in. Logan had said nothing; he'd just pulled him in close and held him through the shaking until Spencer settled back into sleep once more. During the day, he seemed to do all right so long as he was with either Logan or Remy. If he wasn't with one, he was with the other. Logan had talked to Charles and the man was making sure that Logan and Remy weren't scheduled away for things at the same time. If Logan had a session in the Danger Room, Remy was free. If Remy was on security detail, Logan was free.

Despite Spencer's FBI background, Charles seemed to be treating him like any new student here, even if Spencer didn't realize it. He'd made sure that Spencer was given the space he needed to recover, that Hank checked on him every few days just to make sure he was healing okay. He'd already offered to counsel him. He'd also spoken with the other residents and informed them that Spencer was a path who was recovering from damage to his shields and so they all needed to be very careful around him. It wasn't the first time any of them had dealt with a path with fragile shields, so they all knew what to do. Logan had seen how careful some of them were being and he'd appreciated it. There were a few residents who weren't here at the moment. Jubilee and Rogue had gone to Emma's school to help out with something, but they were due back at some point today. Logan just hoped that things went smoothly when he introduced all the kids together.

When had he turned into such an old man, with this passel of pups around him? Logan shook his head at that thought. He was still grinning over it when he reached the back of the house. He was just about to step outside when he caught sight of the view through the window. It was enough to have him stopping in his tracks.

Well, he'd found Spencer and Remy. The two were sitting together out on the back patio. It was becoming a common sight around here. When Logan had first been tricked into letting Spencer out—and yes, he knew now that the little shit had tricked him into sending him out with Remy as a babysitter—he had figured that the two would start to become friends. He hadn't realized just how close they'd become, or how quickly it would happen. Spencer had been here just a little over a week now but he and Remy acted like they'd known one another for years. For Spencer to get that close to someone that quickly was amazing. The kid didn't make friends all that well. Making friends meant trusting someone and if there was anyone who had trust issues, it would be Spencer. And, hell, Remy too.

Maybe that was part of why they were clicking together so well. They had so much in common with each other. Granted, it was pretty much all the bad stuff. But that gave them a shared understanding of each other that the others around here wouldn't have. Despite his closeness with Spencer, there were some things that Logan knew he could listen to and sympathize with, but he would never really _understand _it, not the way that Remy was able to.

Spencer was definitely relaxing around Remy. Their current poses were testament to that. They were at a patio table, seated in two of the chairs. Spencer was curled up with a notebook resting on his knees and a pencil in hand. Remy was in a chair close to him, his long legs kicked up so that his feet, crossed at the ankles, were resting on the armrest of Spencer's chair. Even if it was subtle, he was still right there in Spencer's personal space in a way that usually would've had Spencer pulling back. But Logan watched as Spencer laughed at something Remy said and shoved at his feet, and as Remy grinned and retaliated by pushing at Spencer's knee with a foot. They looked happy out there.

Maybe he'd come back and find Spencer later. Let the kid have his fun. Logan looked at them a moment longer and then turned and headed back into the main part of the house. He'd leave those two be for a while, let them bond a bit. It would do them both some good. Besides, he was due to call Aaron at some point today anyways to check in and let him know how Spencer was doing. Might as well get it done now.

* * *

Writing letters to his friends back home was proving far harder than Spencer had originally thought. He'd settled in here to write them letters to try and let them all know that he was doing okay. Only, he wasn't sure what to put in there. Writing his mother had been easy; he never told her anything that would make her afraid. She'd spent too much time in her life worrying about him when she was coherent enough. He'd made it his goal to never worry her more than he had to. But he couldn't get away with writing a letter like that to any of his friends.

He looked down at his notepad and read over what he'd written so far.

_Greetings,_

_Hey, everyone. I hope you guys are all doing well. Hopefully your caseload hasn't been that bad lately. I miss being there with you guys but I have to admit that this vacation is doing me some good. I'm relaxing and starting to feel a little more like normal again. Being here with Logan has been perfect. He says hello, by the way._

And that was all that he had. Beyond those simple words, he had no idea what to tell them. How did he put everything into words? There was so much he should say, so much he needed to, and yet he didn't want to say any of it.

He must've made some sound without realizing it because Remy suddenly asked him "Y' okay, _mon ami_?"

His question drew Spencer's gaze upwards. He found Remy watching him, a cigarette dangling between his lips and a concerned look on his face. It was the concern that did him in. "I don't know what to tell them." Spencer answered honestly. He looked down at the letter in his lap and he sighed. "What do I say? 'Hey, sorry for turning into a zombie for a while. I'm okay now, don't worry, see you when I see you'?"

The sarcasm in his voice had Remy chuckling. He tipped his head and sent Spencer a smile. "Maybe not quite like dat. Y' aint gotta give dem details. Dose are y'r business and no one else's."

"It's not that simple." None of it was. He absently brushed his hair back from his face, just narrowly missing marking his cheek with the pen. "I can't tell them what I, what I did to those men. I just can't. But if I tell them what happened to me without telling them what I did, they'll want to try and hunt them down. It's what we do. And if I try and cover it all up and say nothing about any of it, well, they're profilers. They all know something serious happened and they probably already have a general idea after seeing the marks I had and the way I flinched back from all of them even when I was mostly catatonic. If I don't give them something, they're going to start investigating on their own, if they haven't started that already. Do you see why I'm having trouble trying to figure out what to put in this letter?"

Remy winced. "Yeah, Remy can see why."

"It's why I'm writing instead of calling, as well. At least in a letter I can be very careful about how I write and what I write. On the phone, it'd be even harder to hide anything."

"_Merde_. How de hell do y' live like dat? De way y' talk, y'all spend a lot of time together. How do y' stand being around people all de time dat are always analyzing everyt'ing y' do?"

Shrugging, Spencer started scribbling absently in the margin of the paper. "We try not to profile one another. It doesn't work, of course, but we pretend it does. There's plenty that we see about one another that we just choose not to comment on out of respect for the other person's privacy. It's the same as you living in a house full of telepaths. They respect your privacy and don't comment on the random things that slip, and you make sure your shields are strong to keep things from slipping. My friends generally respect my privacy and don't comment on what little things they profile, and I pull on a mask that keeps them from seeing down to the darker things I don't ever want them to know."

"Does it work?"

"I don't know. I think so." He hoped so. He really, really hoped so. Just the thought of them even suspecting some of the things in his past was enough to set Spencer's heart beating faster.

The feet on Spencer's chair dropped down and he found Remy leaning forward. The man reached out and laid a hand on Spencer's leg just below his knee. "Y' can't keep everyt'ing locked inside dat way, Spencer. It aint good fo' y'. Y' let dat darkness stay hidden inside and it'll poison y'. Y' gotta open up to someone. Logan, y'r _amis_. Anyone. Don't let it build up inside y'."

"Like you do?" Spencer snapped before he could stop himself. Remy's words had made him feel defensive and he'd lashed out.

Remy didn't look perturbed by his words. He nodded gravely at him and said "_Oui_, like Remy does."

The ache coming from Remy was easy to feel and it had Spencer wincing. He hadn't wanted to hurt the man. "Remy."

"_Non, _cher. Y' was right. Remy does let it build. He don't talk about t'ings dat hurt. _Mais_, dat's how Remy can say it aint good fo' y'." The hand on Spencer's leg clenched down briefly. Remy closed his eyes and Spencer felt the man forcing himself under control once more. His grip loosened, then smoothed over Spencer's leg, smoothing down the wrinkles he'd put there. His eyes opened again and there was old pain in them, pain that Spencer had caught glimpses of before. Spencer knew what Remy was about to tell him something painful, something he didn't talk about, he could see it on the Cajun's face and he wanted to tell him to stop, that he didn't have to do this, but he didn't have enough time. Remy spoke before he could. "Remy hid t'ings fo' a long time when he came here. Never told dem bout de t'ings he done, de t'ings he been involved wit', an it blew up in his face an almost cost Remy his life."

"Remy, stop." He couldn't do this, couldn't sit here and let Remy relive something that he knew hurt him, especially not when Spencer had figured out what it was he was talking about. Reaching down, Spencer put his hand over Remy's in a rare touch, projecting soothing emotions. "You don't have to tell me this. You don't have to say it all."

Red and black eyes met his. Realization built in those depths. "Y' know."

"I'm where Logan went after the Trial, before they knew you were alive. He told me in the strictest confidence, though. I promise you I won't ever pass on anything that he told me to anyone else." Spencer hurried to reassure him.

Remy turned his hand so that his and Spencer's hands were palm to palm. "It's okay, cher. Remy's glad dat Logan had someone to go to. Y' see, though? Even Logan needs to talk to someone when t'ings hurt inside." Remy's other hand came up and now he drew Spencer's hand down, cupping it between his, and the look in his eyes pinned Spencer in place. "Don't wanna see y' hurting, Spencer. If y' wanna talk, y' know Remy's right here fo' y'. Y' know Remy's story, so y' know he aint got no room to judge y'. If y' need to talk…I'm here fo' y'."

Oh, God, Remy had no idea. He had no idea what he was offering. There was no way Spencer could tell the man his story. Just the idea of it was enough to have him feeling sick. His heart sped up and his stomach clenched with the familiar mix of pain and nausea. Memories pushed forward and he fought hard to shove them back. No, no, he couldn't tell. There was no way he could tell that story. Not without going into a full blown panic attack. Even knowing that if anyone would understand, it would be this man here, he still couldn't do it. "I can't, Remy." He whispered the words, not able to make his throat work properly. "I just…I can't." _I can't think about it. I can't tell you and watch it ruin this friendship we're building. I can't tell you about what happened to me and what I did. I can't tell you about the evil that lives inside of me. _"What you did, it wasn't your fault, no matter how guilty you feel. What I've done…I won't ever be clean from it."

"I don't believe y'r a bad person." Remy said firmly.

_Oh, Remy, you have no idea._ "I'd like to keep it that way."

Remy stared searchingly at him for a few long minutes. Eventually, he nodded. "Okay, cher." He patted Spencer's hand and let it go. "Okay. I aint gonna push it."

The way he said it let Spencer know he was being honest, too. He wasn't going to push it and he wasn't upset about Spencer not talking. He was just accepting it and moving on, not trying to guilt Spencer into saying anything. Spencer smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you."

"What're friends fo'?" Remy asked, smiling. He rolled his head to either side and popped his neck, making Spencer wince in sympathy, and then he sat forward once more. Only this time he actually rose to his feet. Once he was upright, he held his hand out to Spencer. "Well if we aint gonna talk, den Remy t'inks we should go and relax. C'mon."

"I'm supposed to be writing my letter." Spencer reminded him, holding up his notebook.

To his amusement, Remy took the notebook and made it vanish somewhere inside his coat in one of those many and mysterious pockets in there. Then he caught both of Spencer's hands with his and gave a tug. "Y' can finish it later. Let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

Remy grinned and tugged at Spencer's hands. "Y'll see. Now quit y'r complaining and get moving, cher!"

With an amused smile on his face, Spencer let himself be tugged away to wherever it was Remy was trying to take him.

Where Remy ended up taking him proved to not be very far away. Just down the yard, to a section of grass that was sheltered from view of the main house. Remy stopped off at the boathouse long enough to grab a blanket and then he dragged spencer to that patch of grass. Once there, he spread the blanket out like they were going to have some picnic, only there wasn't any food in sight. Spencer was about to ask once more what it was that Remy was planning when the man started to pull his jacket off and quickly followed it with his shirt as well.

The words dried up in Spencer's mouth as he looked at all that smooth, golden skin that was revealed. He had a moment to admire the defined chest and the dusting of curls there, and the defined abs with that light trail of hair that disappeared into the top of his jeans, and then it was all gone from view as Remy lowered himself down to the blankets and stretched out on his stomach. He folded his arms and rested his head on them, smiling up at Spencer. "Lay down, cher. A little relaxing in de sun is just what y' need."

"You want to sunbathe? That's your plan?" Spencer looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby. When he found no one, he dropped his eyes back down to Remy.

Remy was smirking up at him as if he were the one that was the telepath. "Relax, Spencer. Dere aint no one back here and no one can see y' from here. Take off dat outer shirt at least and lay down. Remy promises he aint gonna bite." A pause and then his grin turned a bit devilish. "Not unless y' want him to."

The easy going flirting helped to set Spencer at ease. He'd come to realize that Remy flirted almost as easily as he breathed and, instead of feeling pressured or threatened by it, Spencer found that it relaxed him sometimes. It made him feel almost normal when he usually felt abnormal. Giving another look around, Spencer hesitated, still unsure. Remy didn't press it. He just lay there and waited, radiating a contentment that relaxed Spencer even more. It couldn't hurt to just lie here, could it? He could just take off his outer shirt and still be covered by his undershirt. And it wasn't like someone was going to hurt him here. He could defend himself if he had to, and he had Remy beside him. Remy wouldn't let someone try anything with him. He'd stop anyone who tried to come up and touch him. He was safe here. He could do this.

All at once this was about more than just relaxing. This was about proving to himself that he _could_ relax. That he could be normal—that they hadn't taken that away from him.

Spencer's hands shook ever so slightly as he lifted them to unbutton his long sleeved shirt. Neither one of them said anything as Spencer slowly stripped himself of his outer shirt. It left him standing there in just the tank top he wore underneath. There was no way he was going to be able to take that shirt off. Still, this would be enough. It was fine.

He lowered himself down to his knees on the blanket and then, with a deep breath, he stretched himself out on his stomach at Remy's side. Tension was obvious in his muscles as he laid down. He felt open and exposed like this. That didn't stop him, though. Balling up his shirt, he used it as a pillow and he lay his head down so that he was facing Remy, who had been silently watching him this whole time. When he looked at Remy's face he found something that looked like pride there. It made it just a little easier to relax. Spencer found a shy smile for his friend. He could do this. He could really do this. Forcing himself to relax a little more, Spencer closed his eyes and let himself just feel the sun beating down against his back, the heat of it soaking in and soothing muscles that had been tense for far too long.

* * *

How long they'd been lying there, Spencer had no idea. He'd lost track of time. His body felt loose and relaxed from the sun's heat and the comfort of his friend at his side. Relaxed the way he was, it was a bit of a shock to his senses when he registered someone coming close to them. He held still, hoping that maybe they would just pass by, that the person wouldn't notice them there. His hopes proved fruitless. He felt the person's emotions startle, most likely when they caught sight of them, and then he felt them coming closer. A second later a clear, southern voice cut into the peace of the bright afternoon. "What the hell you doing, swamp rat?"

Spencer had opened his eyes as he felt the person get closer. Still facing Remy's direction, it allowed him to see Remy's slight flinch at the sound of that voice, matching the emotional flinch that he gave. His emotions shifted and changed. _Hurt, pain, regret, a hint of anger._ All of that told Spencer who he would find when he looked up. Rogue. He remembered what Remy had told him about her and felt his teeth go on edge. He kept quiet, though. This was Remy's battle, not his. But he forgot about his own worries and issues in lieu of monitoring Remy now.

Lifting his head just a little, Remy slanted a look at the furious Rogue. "Laying in de sun, Roguie. What's it look like?" His tone was casual and his accent a little thicker than normal, signs that Spencer had learned meant he wasn't comfortable with the conversation and was trying to hide what he really felt. Spencer couldn't stop himself from bumping their elbows just a little, projecting support toward his newest friend. The appreciation that Remy sent back made Spencer's smile.

Rogue didn't seem to like that at all. Her eyes narrowed on where the two of them had touched. Then they snapped back to Remy's face. "Looks like you didn't waste no time wondering about me. Went out and found you a slut, huh? You're a bastard! Sleeping around and then bringing him to the mansion."

"Don't act like y' care what Remy does, Rogue. Y'r de one dat walked out. _Again_." Remy pointed out dryly. He laid his head back down as if he considered the conversation over. Because of that, he didn't see the kick aimed for his side. But Spencer did. Without thinking of it, he shifted, practically laying on Remy's back so that he could reach one arm over to catch her calf just before her foot would have made contact. Tipping his head up, Spencer leveled a glare at the woman and firmly held her jean clad calf. "I wouldn't recommend that." He said in a low, furious voice.

With a huff she yanked her leg back, straightening out her jeans. "Don't you touch me, you little whore."

The woman had no way of knowing what kind of reaction that would incite in Spencer. Having just returned to the mansion today, she didn't know what had happened to him or the things he was currently dealing with. But Remy did. Even without feeling Spencer's emotional response to that word, Remy knew the instant she said it what it would do to Spencer. That was why he twisted, one arm coming up in just enough time to wrap around Spencer, trapping him close, their chests pressed together. All Spencer could think of was reaching this little bitch that dared to stand there and insult them like this.

Remy may have held his body, pinning Spencer against his chest, but it didn't restrict his mouth. And anyone who knew Spencer knew that his mouth was his most dangerous weapon. "Jealous, little Marie?" He taunted her in a nasty voice, not thinking about his use of her name or even noticing the reaction it earned him. In his fury, he hadn't even realized that he'd drawn the name from inside her mind. "What is it? You don't want him, but you don't want anyone else to have him? To you, he's simply a possession; nothing more, nothing less. You don't give a damn who he sleeps with so long as you can make it all part of your game. Your manipulation. You'd dare to stand there and call me a whore because I'm sunbathing with a friend and yet you act as if your own actions are above reproach. How many men have you been with since you left him this time around?"

She opened her mouth to protest, the words easily visible in her mind before she could voice them. Spencer scoffed at her, bracing his hands on the blankets, trying to yank backwards. To sit up. But Remy kept a tight grip, not trusting to let him go yet. So Spencer was forced to stay there, still stuck with words alone as his weapons. "You can try and claim that you've done nothing simply because you cannot have skin to skin contact, but that lie won't work with me. How many men has it been that you've made put on those elbow length gloves and touch you until you came?"

"Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me this way?" She demanded.

"Who I am is someone who sees through the manipulations and the lies you're feeding people around here." One again Spencer tugged, trying to break free. This time Remy let him. He could feel Spencer's emotions and knew that the edge of violence was gone. While Spencer rose to his feet, Remy followed, torn between the words being bandied back and forth and the urge to keep Spencer under control.

Rogue was sneering openly now. She turned towards Remy in an obvious move meant to dismiss Spencer completely. "I don't know what he's talking about, but I sure as hell don't have to stand here and listen to some penny whore you've brought to the mansion, Remy LeBeau. Next time pay him a little extra to shut his damn mouth."

"Remy suggest y' shut y'r mouth before one of us does it for y'." The Cajun snapped at her. "Spencer aint no whore an Remy aint y'r toy no more. He aint gonna play dis game with y'." With a turn that deliberately cut her off from the conversation while still allowing Remy to keep his eye on her, the Cajun put his hand on Spencer's chest right over his heart. "Cher, enough. Don't want dis, me. Not worth it."

Those words were enough to have Spencer forcing himself to relax. This wasn't his fight and here he had jumped right in the middle of it, not thinking anything about the words that spilled from his mouth and how they might have hurt Remy. _/I'm sorry/_ The two words weren't enough, but they were all he had to offer. He felt slightly ashamed of himself. _You should've just kept your mouth shut and stayed out of it_ he told himself.

The hand over his heart shifted up to stroke down his cheek. All Spencer could feel from Remy was the same caring as always, just a little brighter. "No need to apologize, cher." One last smile and then Remy turned to look at Rogue once more. "Why don't y' just head on back up to de house, Roguie? We aint done sunning yet and y'r spoiling de good day."

She stared at him for a long moment before huffing loudly and spinning on her heel, marching toward the house.

Remy turned to smile at Spencer once more. "Come on, cher. Let's lay back down. Dat sun, it feels good, _oui_? Don't know how dese people survive in de cold winters here."

"I think it might have something to do with their mental state." Spencer joked while taking up the same position as before. "There has to be something not quite right in their minds. We should ask Henri if he'll take a look at the people here. Specifically searching for abnormalities in their brain."

Hearing that, Remy started to laugh, laying his head on his folded arms once more. And just like that, the two returned to their earlier good mood, the moment with Rogue all but forgotten.

* * *

Back up at the house, Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table with Logan when Rogue came storming in. All it took was one look to see that she was completely pissed off. For a moment Bobby debated ignoring it. Then he sighed. That wouldn't work. She'd probably still end up ranting anyways. Better to just ask her and get it over with. "What's got you so steamed, Rogue?"

The southern girl stomped her way over to the sink, snatching a glass and getting herself some water. "That damn Cajun." She snarled. "What else?"

Bobby kicked back in his seat, rolling his eyes at Logan, making the older man snort slightly. Rogue wasn't paying any attention to either of them. She was still fuming. "Here I am, willing to talk to him out of the goodness of my heart, and what does he do? Gets snippy with me. Then he lets that little whore he bought start making nasty comments at me, calling me all sorts of horrible things. I'm surprised no one's called him on bringing the whore back to the mansion. He could have just used his place in town. But no, he brings him here to rub him in my face."

The kitchen was completely quiet. Bobby's eyes went wide, looking to Logan, and he swore he could feel the crackle of the tension that suddenly built. Logan looked slowly up at Rogue, his face hard, hands flexing. "What did you just say?"

Something in his tone must have warned Rogue that something was going on. She turned, eyebrows furrowing down. "Logan?"

The feral man rose to his feet, keeping each step slow and careful. He walked right over to her, the claws on one hand sliding out with a deadly sound. Rogue's eyes were wide when Logan brought those claws up to rest under her chin. "Listen here, girl." He growled. "I ever hear ya talk about Remy or Spencer with that filthy mouth again, you're gonna regret it. That, I promise. You leave them the hell alone. And don't ever let me hear you call Spencer a whore again or I'll kick your ass myself before I let Remy have his turn."

His claws slid back in and he spun around, marching out of the room. Rogue was still gaping after him even after he was gone. Bobby watched her and he shook his head. It wasn't really her fault, he knew. She hadn't been here and she had no idea just who Spencer was. He rose from his chair and made his way over to the sink to put his plate in. Then he turned and looked back at Rogue. She still looked stunned though she was no longer staring at the door. She'd turned to look at Bobby now. "What on earth was that all about?"

"That guy you were talking about, the one out there with Remy?" Bobby gestured with his thumb to the window behind him, through which the boys could be seen. "He's this kid Logan's known for a long time, I guess. Kind of like a surrogate son." He saw her shock grow and gave a nod. "Yeah. So, I'd watch the whore comments. As you saw, Logan's just a bit protective of him." With that final warning, Bobby made his way out of the kitchen, leaving behind a very stunned Rogue.


	8. Chapter 8

Later on that night found Spencer sitting by himself in his room down at the boathouse. He'd told Logan that he was tired and he wanted some time to himself to just rest and think, so Logan had gone to join the others up at the main house to have some dinner. Spencer loved that about Logan; he could be pushy if he felt he had to, but he wasn't like other people and he didn't assume that wanting alone time was cause for worry. He understood the need to be alone sometimes.

So far Spencer had managed to avoid thinking about the things that had brought him here, at least for the most part. The nightmares kept him from being able to forget completely but he was doing his best to forget during the day. But talking with Remy had seemed to bring it all to the forefront of his mind. He knew that Remy was right; bottling things up was a horrible way to live. He'd done that so many times over the years and he knew just how dangerous it was. But how could he talk about it?

His thoughts were getting too much to stay confined in this little room. Spencer pushed up off the bed and made his way out of the room. Maybe a walk would help clear his head.

Just being outside helped a little. There were still some days where Spencer found himself feeling a little too confined by four walls. It reminded him of a time in his life when he'd been trapped and unable to leave. Occasionally that feeling still flared up and he had to go out just to remind himself that he could. Spencer drew in a deep breath of the cool night air and tried to stop the memories that were pushing forward. As much as he was coming to enjoy this place and the people here, it had been a long time since he had thought so much about that part of his life. He was usually so good about shutting it off. In his head, he'd always kept that part of himself separate. In his day to day life it was like there were two years of his life that didn't exist. From thirteen to fifteen he tried to pretend that those years had never even happened.

Yet since coming here, he'd been forced to deal with it in so many ways. He'd used the TK that was usually another thing he pretended didn't exist. He'd actually told Scott about being kidnapped and about _how_ he'd gained the TK. He _never_ talked about that! Granted, he had only ghosted over it all, giving him little to no information. But still! Even talking about it that little was a huge thing. None of his teammates back home knew he'd even been kidnapped when younger. They didn't know about the time Spencer had spent with that scientist, they didn't know about the things done to him or the experiments performed, and they had no idea about the power he'd gained while there. And no one—no one but Logan—knew the things that Spencer had done when he'd gotten free. That more than anything else was what haunted Spencer. What had been done to him was horrendous and even thinking about it some days was enough to send him skittering towards a panic attack. But what he had done afterwards, what he had let himself become, was something that would haunt him for the rest of his days. That was a part of him that Spencer loathed. There were things that he'd done, awful things, that he didn't regret doing, but he'd promised himself he would never do again.

But he had done them. That night, the night that had brought him here. At the very end there he'd let the darkness inside go free and those men were dead because of it. He'd killed with his powers alone and that scared him. It scared him straight down to his bones in a way he didn't think any of the people here except for Logan could understand.

It was moments like these that Spencer wondered how he wasn't completely insane. With everything in his head, all he'd lived through and all he'd done, he had no idea how he'd managed to retain so much of his sanity. _Repression_ his mind taunted him. _It's easy to stay sane when you avoid dealing with all of it in any way, shape or form. Locking it away in your mind keeps you sane. Only, those locks aren't holding, are they? It's slipping through again. That telepath mind raped you and he loosened some of your control. That's why you haven't been able to be strong enough to keep up your other shields like usual. You're too busy trying to lock the rest of it away again._

The truth of those thoughts was chilling. They were right, though. Usually by now Spencer would've had his shields back under control again. He wouldn't have been as shaky as he was. After that purge in the Danger Room, he should've slept for a few days as his body reset and repaired everything and then he should've woken up with his shields back to normal. Only, he hadn't. He'd woken up shaky, unsure, and in need of a bodyguard just to be around other people. He let others think it was just because his body needed recovery time—he even let Logan think it—but that wasn't it. That other telepath had loosened the locks Spencer kept around the part of his mind where those two years were held. The part of himself where he locked away that darkness. A good part of Spencer's strength and control was put towards trying to repair that, leaving so little to repair everything else. It was making it take three times as long.

How the hell was he supposed to do this? Spencer wanted to scream. This wasn't fair! It was too much for one person to handle! He had weak shields, making being around people a hardship. He was battling to repair them, battling to lock away the darkness and the memories with it back into the cage he'd made so long ago, battling to find himself under it all again. On top of that, he was battling the guilt he felt at killing those men, even if they'd deserved it, and he was fighting daily to try and deal with what they'd done to him, mind and body both. It was all just too much for one person to cope with. Couldn't anyone see that? He couldn't do this. He just couldn't do this!

Spencer hadn't realized in his growing panic just how far around the lake he'd been walking. But he was abruptly brought back to reality when he felt a presence up ahead of him. He pulled out of his head and his eyes shot forward. In the dark he saw a faint outline, followed by the soft glow of the tip of a cigarette. Spencer recognized the feel of the uniquely shielded mind ahead of him and he felt equal parts fear and longing. Remy. That was Remy.

Remy was a whole other set of problems in Spencer's head. The man was far too perceptive. He saw so much more than everyone else did. He saw it and he didn't just ignore it; he questioned and he offered help. From the first day when they'd strolled through Spencer's horrific memories, he had felt close to this Cajun. A bond had forged that day. How could it not? When two people share something horrific like that it sort of bonds them together or breaks them apart. In Remy, he had found someone that was gradually becoming a very good friend. Someone that, if things were a little different, Spencer would've found himself wishing for a little more than friendship with. But he couldn't do that for so many different reasons. Not just because of his past, or even because of what had recently happened, but also because of who they both were. Remy was one of the X-Men and Spencer was a federal agent. Friendship between them was one thing; even thinking about anything more was ridiculous.

He thought about turning and adjusting his path so that he could go past Remy without having to speak with him. Then he stopped. He was out here to clear his head and try and work things out and earlier Remy had offered to listen to him. He'd shot him down, of course, but that had been mostly because he'd been thinking about the past at that moment. No one said that he had to talk to Remy about the past. But could he talk to him about the recent events? Could he actually do it? Spencer knew that Remy was right in that he didn't need to lock things away. Talking to someone would be good. Sure, if he really wanted he could talk to Logan. But he didn't want to talk to his father figure about this. Could he talk to Remy about it?

Abruptly Spencer squared his shoulders. Then he set forward on a path straight towards Remy before he could change his mind.

He'd barely gone a few feet more when he saw Remy's head lift and seek him out. When the Cajun saw him, a smile spread across his lips and Spencer felt a tiny little tug inside. When was the last time someone aside from Logan had looked so honestly happy to see him? Let alone a man as attractive as Remy.

"_Bonsoir, mon ami_." Remy called out, lifting a hand to wave as Spencer came close. "Remy didn't expect to run into y' out here."

Spencer stopped beside the bench that Remy was sprawled out on and looked down at him. He couldn't help the way his lips curved the slightest bit. "Why aren't you up at dinner with everyone else?"

Remy shrugged one shoulder. "Aint really in de mood fo' sitting up dere listening to dem all. Was much more peaceful out here. What about y'? What's got y' wandering in de dark instead of off having dinner?"

"Oh, I was just…thinking."

"Y' want Remy to leave y' be?"

The fact that he'd been the one to come upon Remy, yet Remy was offering to 'leave him be', made him smile a little. "No, no. You don't have to. Besides, I'm the one that came upon you, right?" Spencer smiled shyly before he dropped his gaze. A bit of hair fell down and made a small screen between them. For once, Spencer didn't bother tucking the shaggy locks behind his ear. He blessed the minimal cover it gave him. Somehow it made it a little easier to force himself to say the words he knew he needed to. "Is that…is that offer to talk still open?"

He felt Remy's surprise, bright and strong. It was followed almost instantly by a mixture of concern, affection, and an emotional strength that warmed Spencer's insides. "_Oui, mon ami_. De offer's always open. Have a seat."

Spencer waited until Remy had made space on the bench and then he carefully lowered himself down to the hard seat. His body radiated his tension, he knew. Could he do this? Now that he was here, could he do this? "I don't, I mean, I'm not really sure what to, you know, what to say."

"Y' say whatever y' want." Remy told him softly.

Whatever he wanted, hm? Spencer twisted his fingers together in his lap and tried to think of how to put his mixed up thoughts into words. How did he get this started? Maybe with the one thought that had been bugging him the most about all of this. "I thought this would be easier. Not the whole 'talking', this. I knew _this_ part would be hard. I mean the, the whole thing. Dealing with it. Coping. I thought it would be easier."

"What do y' mean?"

"Well," Spencer blew out a frustrated breath. He caught the hem of his shirt and started to twist it around between his fingers. "It's not like it's the first time. I should be able to handle this better, you know? It shouldn't get to me as much."

He heard Remy shift beside him and snuck a peek over at the man. Remy had leaned back and stretched his long legs out in front of him. The tip of his cigarette was glowing in the dark, flaring briefly as he drew in a drag. "That aint how it works, Spencer." Remy told him, blowing smoke out. "Just cause it's happened b'fore don't make it any easier to deal now. It don't make it any less painful or any less horrible. What dey did to y', it was terrible an it breaks m' heart. Y' aint just gonna walk away from dat wit'out some time to heal."

"I know that. But between that time I spent stuck in my head and the time I've spent here, it's been weeks now. Yet every time someone I don't know gets too close, or someone touches me, I get that panicky feeling."

"Dere's no set timeline. Y'r de one wit' de psychology degree; y' know dat. Everyone heals different."

"There _is_ a timeline." Spencer spat out. He curled his hands in until his fingernails were pressing into his palms and he closed his eyes. "I can't hide out here indefinitely. I have a home and a job I have to go back to eventually. My life can't just be put on hold forever. Hotch won't be able to give me time off forever. And how…how am I supposed to go back there? How am I supposed to face them?" The guilt rose up again and Spencer swore it was choking him, making it harder to breathe. "I murdered those people. How can I ever look my team in the face again?"

"Y' defended y'rself." Remy argued. "Remy saw what dey was doing. Dey were _killing_ _y'_, Spencer. Y' saved y'r life."

Spencer shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I swore to myself I'd never do that again, Remy. I'd never be in that position again. I don't want to hurt people. And now I've got to live with this. I've got to live with it just like I live with everything else and I just, I don't know how anymore. I'm so damn tired of trying to live with all of this." The emotion got too much and Spencer just couldn't' keep it all contained. He felt it welling up in him, the tears starting to burn at his eyes, and he lifted his hands to press his palms firmly against his eyes in a futile effort to stop them from falling. "Sometimes it just feels like I've got this sign on me that tells people to hurt me. There's so much in my past, and now this, all of this with Georgia and with the drugs and everything afterwards, and I just, I feel like I just radiate this aura that tells the bastards of the world 'hey, come get me!' and I just don't know if I can keep doing this. I'm so tired, all the time. And okay, I know that I chose this job, so I can't really complain when bad things happen, and I'm the one that chose the drugs, so I can't blame anyone else that I was high that night. It's what I get for putting myself in these positions, really…"

"No." Remy's firm voice cut off his ramble. For a bit Remy had been content to just let him go and let him get it all out, even if his train of thought didn't seem to make perfect sense. But when Spencer started to turn it all back on himself and blame himself for it all, the other man had enough. "Blaming y'rself aint gonna do y' any good. Dis aint y'r fault, Spencer. It don't matter what job y' chose, or dat y' was high dat night, or none of it. It don't make it y'r fault."

"It feels like it." Spencer whispered. He rubbed his hands over his face and then rested his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands.

There was a soft, tentative touch, so light against Spencer's back, and it made him jump at first. But Remy just flattened his hand so that it rested there and Spencer made himself relax underneath it. Remy wasn't going to hurt him. He was just offering comfort. When it was obvious that Spencer wasn't going to shrug his hand off, Remy started to rub lightly. "I know it feels like it." Remy said softly, his voice just a whisper on the air. "It always does. I been where y' are, cher. When m' charm got out of control, I been where y' are now, wondering if it was m'fault fo' what happened to me. Blaming m'self."

The soft admission went straight down to Spencer's heart and made him forget about his own pain momentarily. He ached for Remy, and he felt the residual ache from those memories building inside of his friend. He wanted to say something, to try to make the pain better, but it didn't seem right. This wasn't the time for him to speak. Instead he just sat there and listened as Remy continued to speak in that whisper soft voice.

"I blamed m'self fo' a lot of t'ings fo' a long time. An I let m'self get punished in a lot of ways fo' m' sins. I almost died fo' dem. After de Trial, t'ough, comin' back here, I realized dat I can't keep blaming m'self fo' everyt'ing and I can't keep punishing m'self fo' it all. Everyone makes choices, Spencer, and we aint responsible fo' de choices dat other people make. We can't control what dey decide to do. If we take dat on ourselves, we might as well lay down and give up now. All we can do is lift our heads up and keep on moving on. Keep living. Otherwise, y' might as well have let dem kill y' dat night, cause if y' spend de rest of y'r life in pain and guilt, den y'r might as well be dead, _non_? In a way, if y' give in to all dat, y' are dead, cause living like dat aint really living at all."

The soft words struck a chord in Spencer deep down inside. The truth of them stunned him. Remy had it right; he had it exactly right. Living like this wasn't really living at all. There were times that Spencer did feel like a part of him had died back there. There were parts of him that he felt like they'd died years and years ago. Living a half-life this way, it wasn't really living at all. But, "How do I let it go? How do I move on?"

"Y' take it one day at a time. It's all y' can do. Y' take it day by day, hour by hour, and y' do y'r best to live. Not just exist, but live." The hand on Spencer's back slid up to his shoulder. Remy pulled him in a little, giving him a one-armed hug, and he surprised Spencer by bringing his head down to rest against Spencer's shoulder. "And y' don't do it alone, _mon ami_."

Spencer once more wiped his hands over his face. He tried to wipe away the few tears that had fallen. Remy was right. He couldn't just sit and mope like this all the time. He couldn't live the rest of his life in pain and guilt. Letting go of those feelings wasn't going to be easy; he wasn't stupid, he knew that. But he wasn't alone here. He had friends who were willing to help him. He had his team back home, he knew, if he ever let them in. He had Logan—he would always have Logan. And now, he had Remy, too. Spencer dropped his hands from his face and he tentatively laid his hand on Remy's leg. When the touch wasn't rejected, he gave a soft squeeze. "Thank you."

"Anytime, Spencer. Anytime at all."

Silence fell over the two friends as they sat there on that bench and simply drew comfort from the closeness of another who understood just a bit of the pain they went through.

END OF PART ONE

(Part Two will be along eventually, dealing with deeper stuff)


	9. Chapter 9

_I found four more finished chapters on this story so I'm going to add one a day as I get them cleaned up!_

* * *

Things didn't suddenly get better for Spencer after his talk with Remy. But they did start to improve. For Spencer the next two weeks seemed to just fly by. It was almost like he'd stepped out of the real world and into this sheltered little place where life was so much easier and things felt just a little—safer. This was the first time, ever, that Spencer found himself in a place where he didn't have to worry all the time about hiding that he was a mutant. He didn't have to wear his special contacts to hide his white eyes, didn't have to always wonder if he was going to say or do something to give himself away. The people here not only knew he was a mutant, they understood his powers and they more seemed to _expect_ him to use them, not hide them. Granted, they weren't all comfortable about it. Spencer knew that. Not a lot of people were comfortable with an empath who constantly felt what they felt. But they at least seemed to have no problems with his telepathy. And no one mentioned the TK, for which Spencer was grateful. He didn't use it. He rarely ever did.

Logan had told him that he didn't need to worry about work; he'd arranged things with Aaron at the start to put Spencer on medical leave, so they weren't expecting him back until he had a doctor clear him for work. Hank had told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going to clear him for anything until he put on at least five more pounds. He and Logan seemed to have gotten together on this 'feed Spencer' campaign. He was always being offered food.

Though Spencer still didn't really speak much with the others in the house, it wasn't for any real problems on either side. It was just Spencer's natural shyness rearing its head. He was much more content to just spend a little one on one time with people here and there. He'd even taken to playing games of chess with the Professor in the library at night. Of course, he knew Charles had started it as an attempt to try to get Spencer to relax and open up to him. He had absolutely no intention of telling the man anything, naturally. But he had to admit it was amusing to verbally tap-dance with someone who had just as much skill in that arena as he did. Their conversations were always quite interesting. If they weren't debating literature, or politics, or mutant rights, they were engaging in a sort of verbal-sparring match that always left Spencer amused. Charles would probe, discreetly, and Spencer would deflect.

With each passing day his shields seemed to be improving. He wasn't catching as many stray thoughts or emotions anymore. Yet even if his shields had been at full capacity, he still would've caught on to the growing worry in the house. Though no one talked about it around him, he got the feeling there was something going on, a case or a mission or something. X-Men business. They didn't tell him and he didn't probe. It was understood by all parties that it was probably best for the federal agent not to hear a whole lot about what a group of 'terrorists' were up to.

But when Charles gained some new information, he thought that the risk of asking a few questions might be worth it. It would have to be carefully done, he knew. But the latest intelligence they'd received about some disturbing events gave them a name and a location, and they just so happened to have someone here in house who had been in that city, during that time frame. What else could they do? Charles, with Scott beside him, sent out a mental call to Spencer and asked him to join him in his office.

When the young genius poked his head in a few minutes later, Charles had to admit he was surprised that neither Logan nor Remy were with him. It was rare for Spencer to be alone. But maybe that was for the better. This might go a little easier without one of his guardians standing protectively over him. "Come in, Spencer, please. Have a seat." Charles said formally.

Spencer's body clearly showed his reluctance. Yet he walked into the room and came over to sit down in the chair that Charles had gestured him to. As he sat, he seemed to draw this invisible cloak around him. Something that locked down all the nerves they'd seen. By the time he was settled he was the picture of calm and collected. He crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap and looked up at Charles. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I wanted to ask you some questions, Spencer." Briefly Charles looked up at Scott. The man handed him a folder and he thanked him quietly. Then he opened the folder in his lap and looked down at it, though he already knew what was inside. "My people and I have been trying to track down certain information. Information that I can't share here with you. I'm sure you understand why."

"Absolutely." Spencer said.

"Good. Now, the information we have here gives a report on something you may be able to help us with." Charles chose his next words carefully. "In your teens, did you ever hear of any mutant in Vegas known as Nightmare?"

If he hadn't been looking, he wouldn't have seen it. Something flashed over Spencer's face so fast that no one had time to decipher it. His mind was sealed so tight that Charles couldn't even get a glimpse. The young man seemed to lock down before them even more than he had before. Those startling white eyes seemed to dull just a bit. "I have."

"Can you tell us about him?" Scott asked.

It was hard to tell with Spencer's unique eyes, but Charles didn't think that the man even looked to Scott. Something in his look said that he was focused right on Charles. His words were addressed to him. "You don't want to mess with Nightmare, Professor. Trust me. This is one to leave alone."

"There are rumors he may have surfaced once more." Charles stated. He was carefully watching Spencer's reactions to things now. What he had intended to simply be a potential way to gather facts seemed to have grown into something more. Something was off here and he needed to be on alert to figure out what it was. Everyone who paid attention had already learned in Spencer's short time here that talking with him always had to be done carefully. The man could twist your words and his own around until you had no idea what you'd even originally been talking about. "At the very least, the name is being whispered amongst mutants in the rougher parts of town."

Looking at his lap, Spencer said "Let them whisper. Nightmare is gone." Those words carried a note to them that made them sound more like a reminder; a prayer that had the sound of being oft whispered. Spencer's hands clenched in the only outward sign of his distress. Abruptly he rose from his chair. "Excuse me." Without another moment's pause, Spencer left the room.

His abrupt departure was startling. Scott and Charles exchanged a curious look. "That was interesting." Scott murmured.

"Indeed."

"He knows something."

Yes, that had been rather clear. "He does." Charles agreed. He would guess that Spencer knew more than 'something'. His reaction didn't suggest someone who had just passing knowledge of this 'Nightmare'. It suggested someone who had a personal, intimate knowledge of him. Charles turned to look out the window where Spencer's figure could be seen moving towards the gardens. "I'd hazard he's met this Nightmare. From the looks of it, it probably wasn't a pleasant meeting."

"Whatever information he has, we need, Professor. If he really did know him, or had contact with him…" Scott trailed off, sighing. It was manipulative, but he still suggested, "I'll see if Jean will speak with him. Maybe she'll be able to get more out of him than we did. He seems to like her."

Still Charles watched Spencer through the window. "Tell her to be delicate. I sense there's something more here than we're seeing." What that was, he had no idea. But he knew that they had to find out. Part of him said that, if they didn't, it would be so much worse.

* * *

It didn't take long after he left the office before someone came to find him. Spencer had known that his reprieve wouldn't last long. The little bit of time he'd managed had been just enough for him to get his composure once more, at least. When Jean came walking up and silently took a seat beside him on the stone bench, he had the pain pushed down as far as he could get it. He avoided sighing, knowing it would do him no good. For a few long minutes the two sat in total silence. Jean was the one to finally break it. She looked straight ahead as she spoke in a soft voice. "I'm sorry that the Professor upset you, Spencer."

"I know." He said simply. He wasn't going to make this easy on her.

"No one here is going to judge you for what you know. If this has a connection to your past, we understand that things were out of your control at the time. Whatever happened to you was not your fault."

It took a lot for him not to scoff at that. Sweet as her attempts were, she understood nothing. How could she claim that when she knew nothing of the story? This time Spencer did sigh. He turned his head so that he could look at her. "I'll tell you the same thing I've told your husband before, ma'am. Why don't you ask what you really came to ask?"

She actually smiled at that. Then her smile wiped away. "Who is Nightmare?"

He'd expected as much. Looking back to the gardens, Spencer felt a corner of his mouth quirk in a wry grin. "You Summers' never ask easy questions, do you?"

"You don't have to answer me, Spencer."

The thing was, he knew that. But she deserved some kind of an answer. They all did. He knew that they wouldn't have asked him about this unless their need was great. They'd worked hard to keep him separate from anything related to the work they did so far; if they were asking him for information, it had to be important. That helped him a little. It helped him get together the courage he needed to give them _something_. Even if it might not be what they wanted.

"Let me tell you a story." He said softly. For a second the world in front of him wavered, bringing another image that he resolutely pushed down. He blew out a breath and tried to distance himself from this, treating it like it really was a story he was telling, just like he'd used to do back in the day to entertain his mother. Maybe if he treated this like it was some story, like it wasn't real, then he might be able to get through saying it all. "Let me tell you about a mutant who was exactly what his name suggested. He was a living, breathing Nightmare. A horror that could bring so much fear and pain. He could slip into someone's mind and make them do anything he wanted while leaving them believing it was their own idea. He could trap a person in their mind and box them in with their greatest fears until they were nothing but a gibbering mess on the floor. Just seeing him was enough to frighten some people. He was always dressed in dark clothes and he had eyes that seemed blacker than the abyss. He moved in the darkness, unseen until it was too late."

It took a second for Spencer to swallow down the lump in his throat. He focused on the beautiful garden and the warm sun even as a chill ran down his spine. He pulled himself back a little more, distancing himself even further from what he was saying. _It's just a story. It isn't real. It's just a story._

"There was a time when Nightmare roamed the streets. Not for fun, but for a purpose. There were twelve he hunted and eleven he killed. When their bodies were found, not even the coroner wished to touch them. The one he left alive….that one lived for only three days before he slit his own wrists in the hospital, with his _teeth,_ in an effort to make the nightmares stop. All the while he screamed about the darkness in his mind trying to consume him. Every evil thing he had ever done had been drawn out of his mind and then turned upon him."

With a sort of grace he didn't usually display, Spencer rose to his feet. He looked down at the woman whom he could feel was stunned by his story. "Nightmare is a monster of the worst kind, Jean. Pray to whatever God or Goddess you believe in that you never have to meet him."


	10. Chapter 10

Spencer should've known better than to bring himself around people again. After his conversation with Jean, he really should've just hidden himself off somewhere out of the way. Somewhere that he wouldn't have to encounter anyone. But the idea of being alone hadn't been the least bit appealing and so Spencer had made his way back into the house in search of either Logan or Remy, someone that he was comfortable with to be around so that he wouldn't have to be alone. He was so eager to find one of them that he actually ignored the warning signals his mind was sending out. Today's conversations had weakened his shields. There were too many emotions pushing in at him, too many that he'd drawn in already and too many that he could feel around him. He ignored the warnings and trudged on.

That was his mistake.

All it took was one strong emotion. Just one. Somewhere nearby, Bobby leapt out from behind something and scared Kitty as she went past. It was Kitty's fear that hit Spencer's fragile shields. Weakened as they were by too many emotions and by his own emotional distress, still not fully repaired from the recent damage done to them, they couldn't hold up against something strong like that, and they shattered. With a low cry of pain, Spencer dropped like a ton of bricks.

It was all he could do to keep from projecting his own pain outwards. The deepest part of his shield, the layer that protected his own thoughts and feelings from coming out, was the only one that was still standing. The only reason that still stood was all the years he'd put into reinforcing it. But his outer shields, the one that protected him from feeling and hearing other people's minds, those were completely gone and Spencer couldn't keep from feeling the raw emotions and thoughts that seemed to be screaming around him. He clenched his hands down into his hair and curled in tightly right there in the middle of the floor and did the only thing that he could manage to do. He broadcast one single though to the person he trusted most in the world. _/Logan!/_ His control wasn't enough to focus the thought to one person. Plenty of people around it heard the voice calling out, and they all went in search of that voice.

Spencer was lost in a sea of pain. He couldn't filter out the emotions, couldn't keep the thoughts of others back, and each one was scraping against his raw mind. They were getting closer, too, and stronger. He gave another cry as the pain grew even stronger. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt! Unknown to Spencer, things started to rattle around him, pictures shaking on the walls.

All of a sudden a deep snarl cut through everything and Spencer knew that sound; he recognized it and almost sobbed in relief. "Back off!" Logan was shouting. Then he was right there on his knees at Spencer's side and Spencer let himself be gathered up in strong, familiar arms. He curled into them, unable to even be embarrassed as he usually would've at this display of weakness. All he could do was cling to Logan and the safety of the man's embrace. With the strength of Logan's support there he managed to get his shields back up, but it was already too late, the damage had been done. The amount of thoughts and emotions that had swarmed in had overloaded him. The whirlwind caught him up and he was lost in the agony of it.

The crowd around them watched as this grown man seemed to shrink down in Logan's arms. They saw the quiet man they barely knew seemingly turn into a terrified child. Logan held him closer and lifted him gently in his arms. Jean gestured with her hands for the others to back up and she cleared an open space for Logan to move through. "Go, Logan, get him out of here." She told him gently, working to make sure her own thoughts were sheltered. She didn't want to add to Spencer's pain. "He's got his shields back up but I think he overloaded. Get him out, quick. I'll keep everyone away from the boathouse."

Logan moved immediately. He'd known the instant he'd seen Spencer lying there on the ground just what was going on. He'd seen Spencer's shields break down before. It was rare, though. This wasn't like what had happened in the Danger Room before. This was Spencer's weak shields coming apart and leaving his mind open to everyone else's. It only happened when stress put his shields too low, or something extremely emotional happened and made his control shaky. Later, Logan would find out what had happened to cause this. For now he needed to take care of his boy.

Though he hadn't had to do it often, the routine here was one that Logan knew well. He got Spencer down to the boathouse where he'd be safely away from people. Then Logan set to creating a sensation of relaxation and safety. Those were the two things that Spencer needed right now. He needed to relax and he needed to feel safe enough to do it. To that end, Logan took him up stairs, though not to the room he'd been sleeping in. He took him to Logan's room. Not only would that feel just a little safer for him, it would help Logan feel a little better to have Spencer in his territory. Once in there, he carefully laid Spencer down on the bed and then he worked to strip him down to just his boxers.

Spencer was too far gone inside of his head at the moment to even notice what it was that Logan was doing. He'd described it once to Logan, trying to make him understand. "It's like…too many emotions get inside my head." Spencer had said. "They get in there and they just, they overwhelm me. Sometimes it's a gradual build up and sometimes it just hits me all at once. When my shields are normal and I'm doing okay, I can typically just process the emotions that slip inside. I work them out of my system. But too many, too strong, too fast, it just…it hurts. I feel it all and it just hurts. Especially the negative ones. When I overload like that, there's nothing for me to do but let them bleed their way out. When it's like that, I don't have the strength or control to work them out on my own. All my control goes to keeping a grip on my sense of self in the center of all that chaos."

It drove Logan crazy to see his boy have to go through this. As he pulled Spencer's pants off and set them aside, he tried not to sigh or growl. Seeing his boy hurt this way was always hard. But it was even harder knowing that it didn't have to be like this. This didn't have to happen. Spencer was stronger than this, he knew. He knew it better than anyone else in the world. He wasn't just referring to the man's personal strength, either, but his psionic strength. The power behind his mutation. Logan knew just how strong it was, just as he knew the reasons why Spencer never tapped into that full strength. Jean had questioned him about it more than once after that session in the Danger Room and so had Scott and the Professor. Logan hadn't told them. He knew Spencer hadn't, either. Telling them would mean admitting to the horror that lived in his past.

Logan took Spencer's socks off and set them down as well. Then, now that Spencer was in nothing but his boxers, he climbed into the bed with him. He didn't lie at Spencer's side but sat up against the headboard. When he got settled in he reached out and carefully drew Spencer to him. He brought Spencer right up against his side and held him there so that Spencer's head rested on Logan's stomach. Simple though it may have been, this was really all Logan could do for now. It was all he could do to help Spencer find the peace to get back to himself.

Some days he wanted to shake Spencer. To demand that he realize that holding back that part of himself would do no good. He wanted to shout at him and tell him that it was stupid to ignore some of your own power just because you were afraid. But other days, most days, he knew he couldn't. Spencer _was_ afraid, he knew. Deep, down to the bone afraid. Having the power that he did scared him. The things that he could do with it terrified him. So he pushed it down, pushed part of it away, and he used a fraction of what was at his disposal. But it wasn't out of stupidity, or ignorance. It was out of fear. A fear that Spencer felt was entirely justified.

Sighing, Logan laid his head back against the wall and pushed those thoughts away before they could get his emotions going too strongly. Spencer needed calm and control right now, not anger and worry. The feral man closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before slowly sinking down into a sort of meditative like state that emptied his mind and relaxed his emotions.

* * *

It took hours before Spencer's body managed to purge the foreign emotions enough to let him free once more. But he gradually came back to himself, little by little. Logan felt the changes in his sleeping charge. He felt as the tension in Spencer's body gradually started to fade away and he could scent it as that sharpness in Spencer's scent that he associated with pain slowly started to fade away. By the time Spencer finally did open his eyes, it was dark outside. Logan was still sitting there holding him when he felt Spencer start to shift around and his body slowly started to wake. He kept a light hold on him even after he felt Spencer come fully awake.

They laid there in the quiet for a few long minutes. Logan was content to wait. Though people didn't realize it, he was a very patient person when he needed to be. This was one of those moments that called for it. He stayed quiet and just lay there and held on to Spencer until his brat felt ready to speak. It didn't take long. In the dark and quiet of the room, Spencer's voice was a weak little whisper, soft enough that only someone with Logan's enhanced hearing would've been able to pick up on it. "I'm sorry."

Logan shook his head. Only Spencer would apologize like this for something that was outside of his control. "Shut up." Logan grumbled at him. He stroked a hand over Spencer's head in a touch much softer than his grumbled words would suggest.

He felt Spencer burrow in a little closer to him, clinging in a way he didn't often indulge himself in. "You know what happened?"

"I know they were asking questions that Jean thought might've upset ya."

A small little tremor ran through Spencer's body. Just a hint of his fear was leaking out around him, souring his scent and putting Logan on alert. Then Spencer whispered the words that froze Logan completely. "She was asking about Nightmare."

Shit. _Shit, shit, shit_. That was all it took for everything to make sense. It was no wonder the kid had been upset. No wonder his shields hadn't held up and he'd overloaded. They were asking him about _Nightmare_? "What the hell'd she wanna know about him for?"

"Charles wanted to know about him and I wouldn't talk to him and Scott, so he sent Jean. They're asking questions about him, Logan, and they thought I might know since I grew up in Vegas."

"Fuck." Logan didn't even notice it as he curled himself a little more around Spencer as if to protect him.

The tremor in Spencer's body grew until he was trembling from head to toe. "Why do they want to know about him? Why are they asking about him now, after all these years? You don't think they…they don't know…?"

Logan cupped Spencer's head with one hand and tried to soothe down his boy with the touch. "No. They don't know, kid. There's no way they could."

"Then why are they asking about him?"

"I don't know. But I'll find out."

He _would_ find out, too. As he held on to his boy and tried to soothe his fears enough that Spencer might be able to fall back asleep, Logan promised himself that he would go up to the house tomorrow and find out just why the hell this specter of Spencer's past was coming back to haunt them. What the hell did the X-Men want with Nightmare? He needed to find that out before everything blew up in their faces and the walls that Spencer had safely put around his past came crashing down.

* * *

Morning found Spencer doing quite a bit better. He felt normal once more, the overload dealt with and his mind and body set once more back to what they should be. But he was so embarrassed he was finding any reason to stay down at the boathouse. Logan let him get away with it until lunch when he finally took matters into his own hands. If anyone had looked out the windows up at the mansion close to lunchtime they would've been entertained by the sight of Logan slowly but surely dragging an obviously reluctant Spencer up towards the house. Spencer kept trying to protest the entire way, saying that he wasn't quite ready to go up there yet, and Logan was having none of it. "You know the best thing for you after something like this is to get right back around people." The feral man said firmly. "You got your control all set again, brat, and I aint letting you hide out. Now, Chuck and Hank both think that getting around people more, for meals and shit, will help you get yourself in control once more. Think of it like mental exercise."

Stressed, still tired and not having had his coffee yet, Spencer's filter between his brain and mouth wasn't working at its best. That was his excuse for the rude snort he gave and the dry "You're so full of shit."

Logan snorted and shook his head at the boy. There were so many ways that Spencer reminded him of, well, him. It was amusing half the time and frustrating the other half. "You've got a smart mouth on you today."

"You act like that's something different." Spencer grumbled.

Shaking his head, Logan stopped their walk so that he could turn and fully look Spencer in the face. "It's gonna be fine. Quit stressing so damn much. It's just lunch."

"Logan, they aren't stupid people. They're going to make the connection between my conversations and this and they'll—they'll ask."

"And you aint gotta answer." Logan said firmly. He reached out and caught Spencer by the back of his neck, giving him a light shake. "You don't have to tell em anything, you hear? If they bug you about it, just tell em to fuck off, and if they don't, then send em my way an _I'll_ tell em." Without giving Spencer any more time to argue, he turned and started hauling him towards the house once more. This time, Spencer went a little more cooperatively.

Things went quite a bit easier than Spencer had thought they would. He'd been so sure that they would've made the connection between their questioning about Nightmare and his overload in the hall and that they'd want to question him about it right away. But when he and Logan went into the crowded kitchen, which was surprisingly full of people, Spencer was stunned when no one said a word about it. Instead, he found himself being greeted by pretty much everyone, with more than a few people telling him "I'm glad to see you're okay!" or "Hey, man! Good to see you up! You doing all right?"

The room was packed almost full. Charles was in here, set up in one corner with Hank, Bishop and Scott, while Jean, Betsy and Ororo were at the kitchen table drinking what looked to be iced tea and laughing together. Bobby, Kurt, Jubilee and Rogue were up at the bar, chatting away with Remy, who was busy cooking. They were lucky this place was known for large rooms or they would've been packed in like sardines. With everyone talking at once, though, he had no idea how everyone understood each other.

Jubilee greeted Spencer with a broad grin and a huge hug when he and Logan came over. That was one friendship that Spencer was truly surprised by. The young, energetic girl had latched on to him from the moment she'd met him, not in the least bit jealous about his relationship with her Wolvie—something that Spencer had secretly worried about. She seemed to be under the impression that it made them family and that she'd gained herself a big brother. There was no way he could resist her enthusiasm or her energy and he found himself truly enjoying the friendship he was building with her. Or, as she put it, the 'sibling bonding'.

"Hey, Spencer!" she said brightly. He found himself hugged tightly before she bounced backwards to be able to grin at him again. Her eyes ran over him and she fisted her hands on her hips. "Man, you look like shit. C'mon, get over here. Rem's got food going for us all. We're having some kind of stir fry for lunch today it looks like."

"Some kind of stir fry?" Remy echoed in a disgusted tone. He looked up as Spencer was tugged up to the bar by Jubilee and he winked at the genius. "Don't y' listen to her, Spencer. Dis aint just any ol' stir fry. Learned dis in China, Remy did, from a nice ol' man dat let Remy stay wit' him fo' a while."

"It smells delicious." Spencer told him. He smiled sort of shyly and leaned in against the bar at Jubilee's side. "Did you know that scholars think that wok frying might've been used as early as the Han dynasty?"

Remy made a small humming noise as he stirred the food. "Really?"

"Mm hm. For things like drying grain, not for meats and vegetables. But it wasn't until the Ming dynasty that the wok reached its modern shape and allowed for quick cooking in hot oil."

Jubilee bumped her shoulder against his and grinned up at him. "You know the strangest things."

Embarrassed, he shrugged one shoulder, eyes dropping down. "I read a lot."

"It must be interesting to be able to remember everything you read." Kurt commented.

Laughter came from Bobby. He leaned around Rogue, who was deliberately not paying any attention to Spencer, and he grinned at the genius. "I bet it makes you a terror at trivia games, man."

That brought out more laughter. Remy looked up from his cooking to grin at them all. "Try playing cards wit' him."

"Oh, man, can you imagine how we'd clean up if we took you two to the casinos?" Bobby said. He leaned on his arms on the bar and was laughing at the very idea. "Man, it'd be great. I can't even imagine. Remember the last time we were in Vegas, Remy? We went to the…Mirage, wasn't it?" He turned his head to look at Spencer once more. "You ever been there?"

A hint of a smile touched Spencer's lips. Bobby either didn't know where he came from or he didn't remember. "I've been in there."

"Yeah, and he aint allowed back in!" Logan called out. He'd moved over to join the other 'adults', leaving the younger ones together to talk, but his ears were always tuned to his boy and the things around him.

Heat filled Spencer's cheeks when everyone looked at him. He shot a glare at Logan, who just grinned at him. "Gee, thanks, _Pater_."

"You're not allowed in the Mirage?" Betsy asked him. She cradled her glass of iced tea in her hands and an amused smile started to tug at her lips.

Spencer swore his face felt like it was on fire. "No, I'm not."

"What did you do?" Bobby asked with a laugh. "Did you break their bank?"

"Well, not quite, but more like, well, I mean…"

Jubilee nudged him with her elbow. "Come on, bub. You've got to tell us the story now. What happened? You get caught cheating or something?"

Looking up, Spencer looked around and saw that everyone was watching him now. He realized no one was going to rescue him from this. He let out a sigh, resigning himself to having to tell the tale. "Fine, fine." He glared at Logan one last time, getting a grin in return, and he had to shake his head at that. His tone was slightly resigned as he started his story. "It was only a few days after my twenty first birthday, so I wanted to actually be able to go into the Mirage legally…"

He got cut off right there by more laughter. "Legally?" Jean asked him. Her eyebrows were raised with her surprise. "You mean you snuck into casinos, Dr. Reid? You?"

Spencer gave her a slightly offended look. "I was born and raised there, Jean." The amusement was settling in a little. His embarrassment got pushed down. "What kind of Vegas native would I be if I _hadn't_?" Everyone laughed once more. When it settled down, he continued. "As I was saying, I wanted to go to the Mirage, as well as a few other places, and my friend Ethan flew up to go with me. He didn't trust me in a casino alone, though I don't know what he thought he'd do." Spencer paused, shaking his head at the memory. "He said he wanted to keep an eye on me. Honestly, what help he thought he would provide, who knows. I wasn't doing anything overtly troublesome."

"Overtly, hm?" Scott smiled and shook his head.

That had Spencer shrugging one shoulder. "Well, the only real way he could have prevented what happened would have been to slow my brain down and the kinds of drugs it would take for that, I wasn't going to take. But, I'm digressing. We played a few games but Ethan never let me stay long at one table. Still, after an hour I'd already quadrupled my startup amount." Spencer didn't notice the surprised looks he got there. His eyes were a little distant as he remembered. "Anyways, somehow Ethan and I got separated and I went to play poker. I figured he'd find me."

Remy's grin was growing by the second. "How much did y' win?"

Amused, Jean looked between the two. "You're going to tell me you got in trouble for winning?" She apparently wasn't understanding what letting Spencer loose in a casino could do.

He couldn't stop himself from grinning even as he blushed. "When the guards came to the table, I had—added in with my previous winnings—a total of three hundred thousand dollars, soon to be three hundred and ten thousand." He kept talking as the others whistled and laughed. "They confiscated my chips and tried to press charges against me for counting cards. Of course, I told them I wasn't. Why on earth would I admit to it? I got into a…small altercation with the owner. Ethan came about that time and between us we fast talked me out of being arrested, but I've been banned for life from the Mirage."

While the others started to tease Spencer, Logan stood against the far wall and watched. He saw as Spencer slowly relaxed more and more even with all the teasing around him. The conversation among the 'kids' devolved to casinos and everyone's personal stories of them. Jubilee and Remy kept him talking, kept him involved in the conversation. Between them they were slowly drawing Spencer out of his usual shell. Logan couldn't think of the last time he'd seen Spencer really relax this way around people that were his own age. For the most part the kid had always been more comfortable around older people who were more able to understand him and his mind. Then, as he grew older and kept getting smarter, he stopped being able to connect with the average adult, too, and had seemed to just draw in towards himself. The only people that Logan ever heard him talk about hanging out with were the people on his team and that was mostly work related.

But here, now, Logan got a chance to see Spencer interacting with kids his age, for once actually looking his age. He looked, young. Young and happy. There was a smile on his face and a lightness to him that wasn't usually there. One that definitely hadn't been there when Logan first brought him here.

Jubilee said something to Spencer and everyone started to laugh, Spencer included. He was laughing so hard he had a hand pressed against his stomach and he was actually leaning on Jubilee a little to hold himself up. She just slipped an arm around his waist and leaned into him, grinning up at him. She'd been a blessing when she came back home. Logan had watched as she'd accepted Spencer as a part of their dysfunctional little family, another of Logan's 'pups' as she'd teased, and she'd seemed to take her role as 'sister' seriously since then.

Remy leaned forward suddenly and held out his wooden spoon towards Spencer with a bit of food on the end. Logan watched while his boy leaned forward and took the offered bite, a look of pleasure hitting his face that obviously pleased Remy. When Spencer opened his eyes, he said something that made Remy grin more. Logan couldn't quite hear it over the noise in the room.

That was another relationship that was growing for Spencer that Logan approved of. It wasn't a sibling one, though, and he didn't think it was simply a friendly one, either. There were so many different levels that Spencer and Remy seemed to be connecting on. They were good for each other, he could admit. Very good for one another. Most of the healing that Spencer had done since coming here, the credit for could be laid firmly at Remy's doorstep, and Logan knew it.

Slowly but surely Spencer was coming back into his own. It seemed to be becoming a combined effort, helped along by everyone in the house in their own way, and Logan was thankful to them all for it. Bringing Spencer here was proving to work out so much better than he'd ever thought it would.

Now, if only he could get this other thing dealt with, things might be perfect.

That in mind, he looked over to Charles and gestured with his head towards the door. Now was as good a time as any to talk. Spencer was busy and safe in Remy's care here and he wouldn't notice if Logan disappeared for just a little bit. Quietly, the feral man slipped from the room. He waited until Charles joined him in the hallway and the door was shut before he spoke. "You and I need to have a talk, Chuck."


	11. Chapter 11

_I'm so glad you all are liking this! It's been fun to read what I'd written so long ago and clean it up to look a little better for y'all. There are some things I could change, make the story better, but I won't. I like how it is. I like seeing my style back then. Enjoy!_

* * *

Lunch was delicious. But Spencer found that he enjoyed the company more than he was enjoying the food. Once it was all done, everyone served up their food and Remy had dragged him out to the back patio to eat, bringing Jubilee, Kurt, Bobby, and even managing to get Rogue to come out too. They were joined after a bit by Betsy and Kitty. The group sprawled out at the tables together and Spencer, for the first time in his life, found himself surrounded by people his own age that not only enjoyed his company, but actually wanted him there. It was different than hanging out with his friends at home. With them, talk inevitably turned towards work, or something connected with work, and though he loved the people on his team very dearly, he was never able to fully be himself around them. Not through any fault of theirs, but because he always had to be careful even outside of work that no one outside the team would find out he was a mutant.

Here, it didn't matter. No one said anything about Spencer's pure white eyes—he hadn't worn his contacts once since being here. No one commented on it if he got a little swept up in emotion, or when he accidentally commented on something Jubilee thought, not said. She hadn't even been bothered. She'd just grinned at him and concentrated hard enough that he easily caught the thought she wanted him to hear, which had made him laugh. Hell, at one point Betsy had even started a telepathic conversation with him that they carried on underneath the rest of the conversation, a quiet teasing that had Spencer trying not to laugh.

Everyone used their powers so openly here. It was a heady feeling to be around people who weren't afraid of who they were and who didn't hide it. When Bobby said something sarcastic to Jubilee, she sent one of her 'pafs' at him. Kurt teleported himself away and back again when Bobby tried to fling some ice at him. When Remy lit his cigarette, he did so with his charge in an absent way that showed just how common it was for him.

Spencer watched them all and he found himself relaxing in ways he hadn't even known he could. There was a feeling here, one of comfort, that he hadn't even known could exist. It was as he was relaxing that he felt someone 'knock' at the edge of his shields. He recognized Jean's touch and opened up to let her speak. _/Hey, sweetie. Logan asked me to let you know that he'll be right back. We've got something to handle here in the city, but it should only take about an hour, no more than that/_ Jean sent to him.

_/Okay, thanks Jean. Tell him to be safe for me, please?/_

_/Of course/_

Her touch faded away and Spencer relaxed himself a little again. Whatever Logan was going to handle would be X-Men business, he knew. He didn't let himself worry about it. Logan was one of the strongest people that he knew. The man would be okay. He always ended up okay.

While the others were talking loudly—arguing, really—about the best action flick, Remy took advantage of the moment to lean over towards Spencer. He tapped his head and gave Spencer a look that was easy to decipher. It was surprising, too. Spencer had heard quickly around here just how little Remy liked telepaths. So Spence was a bit cautious when he went out a cautious _/Yes?/_

Remy's reply came quickly and easily. _/Hey, cher. Jus' wanted to take a moment and see how y'r feeling. Overloading like y' did yesterday aint easy. Y' feeling better?/_

_/Better. Logan helped square me away. I…I didn't mean to make such a scene. I don't often get overloaded anymore, but I was just a little shaky/_ His conversations with Scott and the Professor and with Jean had left him shaky. He looked over at Remy now, worried that his friend would start with the questions, too. Was Remy going to ask him about it? He didn't know if he could put him off as easily as he could the others.

He should've known better, though. Not once had Remy ever pushed him to talk about anything that obviously upset him. He slanted a look over at Spencer and smiled even as he sent a burst of reassurance to him. _/Glad y'r feeling better, den/_ he sent. Out loud, he suddenly broke into the conversation around them by calling out "Let's play a game."

That caught everyone's interest. Kitty looked up rather eagerly from where she'd been in a heated debate with Bobby. "A game?"

Betsy was a little more cautious. "What game?" She asked carefully.

A broad, roguish grin stretched Remy's face. "Get y'r mind outta de gutter, cher." He teased her, making the others laugh. "I was t'inking somet'ing simple. We could play Two Truths and a Lie. Or Would Y' Rather."

"Oooh! Would You Rather!" Jubilee said excitedly. The others agreed with her rather quickly.

Spencer didn't get a chance to ask what the hell this game was, or how to play it. Before he could do it a thought was extended from Betsy to him, telling him _/Don't worry, Spencer, it's easy enough. Someone says two scenarios and you pick which one you'd rather do. It's not a real game with any rules or points or anything, it's just a fun way to laugh and get to know each other a little/_

Well that sounded simple enough. All he had to do was say which of two scenarios he'd rather do? It seemed simple enough.

Jubilee started them out. "Okay, okay, I get to ask first. All right. Would you rather…have ten million dollars, or true love?" She asked.

For a first question that seemed like a bit of a no brainer to Spencer. He was surprised to see the others didn't feel the same way. Betsy answered quickly enough, saying "True love", as did Kurt and Kitty, but Bobby and Rogue both took a moment to answer it. Eventually Rogue said "True love", but Bobby actually said "I'd take the ten million, man. Love will come around eventually, but money can get you a whole hell of a lot."

"Money's easy enough to come by." Remy said with a shrug of his shoulder. "I'd take _amour_, any day of de week."

"I'd take love, too." Jubilee said. She turned herself towards Spencer, who was sitting in the chair next to her. "What about you, Spencer?"

He looked around at them all and flushed ever so slightly. "Love. I've already got plenty enough money."

"You guys are all crazy." Bobby told them with a shake of his head. "Whatever, man. I'm giving the next question! Would you rather…"

So started one of the most interesting games that Spencer had ever played. The questions everyone asked ranged from hilarious to disgusting to thought-provoking. Some were simple, sort of easy questions, like "Would you rather be able to stop time, or fly?" while other questions were just slightly…strange. Like when Bobby asked "Would you rather give up cheese or oral sex?" All in all it was an afternoon unlike any he had ever spent. Spencer found himself caught up in it all and he was relaxing without even realizing it.

At one point Remy leaned over to tease him about something and flung an arm around his shoulders, laughing and giving him a squeeze. Neither man commented on the fact that he didn't let go. Not long after that, Jubilee kicked her feet up to rest on Spencer's knees. He shoved playfully at them, but he left them there, and she grinned at him.

Spencer didn't know how long they'd all been sitting out there. But he was quite content and relaxed when he felt the first stirring of something in his mind. A quick look inwards had him smiling. Jubilee caught his expression and she nudged at him with her foot. "What's up, Spencer?"

"Logan's back." Spencer smiled as he spoke. The smile suddenly wiped away, though, when the sensation in his mind got a little clearer. His entire body went still. Tuned to him, Remy turned, already braced for trouble. "What is it, cher?"

Spencer's eyes went distant for just a moment as he pulled inside of his mind and ran along one of the links there. "_Pater_." He whispered. Then, quick as a flash, he dumped Jubilee's feet off his lap and he was up and racing off to the mansion. He didn't even register anyone racing after him. Nothing else mattered to Spencer except getting to Logan.

By the time he reached the lower levels of the mansion, he was scanning the people that were with Logan, his body moving almost on autopilot. Because of how focused he was on his goal, he didn't notice the way everyone jumped when he burst into the holding cells. Instantly he started to move toward the room they held Logan inside of. Hands grabbed for him, but Spencer twisted away from them. "Spencer, no." Scott was saying to him. He tried to grab his arm again. "He's feral right now. You can't go in there."

Spencer jerked his arm free and went right up to the door. "Open the door."

"I can't, Spencer. I'm sorry."

"Open the damn door." He snarled at the crowd. When no one moved to do it, Spencer focused his mind on the controls and used his TK to press the appropriate button before anyone could stop him. Then he darted straight into the room.

The others tried to follow, to come and 'rescue' him from Logan in full feral mode. None of them understood. Spencer looked at the furious Wolverine and didn't even flinch. Sharp eyes locked on to him, pinning him in place while snarls dripped past his lips. Instead of backing away as voices behind him were hissing at him to do, Spencer took another step forward. He let a low whine build in the back of his throat that was soft and pitiful sounding.

Wolverine froze at the sound. His head lifted and he took a testing sniff of the air. Spencer whined again and tipped his chin up so that the long column of his throat was exposed to Wolverine. The growl Wolverine gave was warm and approving at the submissive gesture. His emotions shifted from rage to curiosity and worry. He was worrying about what had made the 'pup' in front of him whimper.

Reading his emotions and skimming over his thoughts, Spencer carefully judged his timing. He took a few steps forward and whimpered again, higher this time. He lifted his chin even more until his neck was stretched. This time Wolverine took a step forward. Gasps sounded behind them when he bent forward and pressed his nose against the side of Spencer's throat. He started to sniff Spencer in a gesture the young man knew was a search. He was trying to figure out what was wrong.

Spencer let his chin drop down when Logan's sniffing moved, but he tipped his head forward, butting his forehead against Wolverine's shoulder. He projected a small sense of exhaustion, not enough to influence Wolverine but enough that it would change his own scent. The beast in Logan responded quickly to the change in one that he now recognized as _his_ pup. With one arm, he scooped Spencer against his side, carrying him over to the single bed in the cell. There he laid Spencer down, pushing him flat onto the bed. When it looked like Logan was going to move away, Spencer curled his body a little and whined once more. He didn't dare use his telepathy—the Wolverine had astounding senses when it came to telepathy. No, he had to rely solely on his own knowledge and his empathy.

Wolverine turned back to him at the whining. He growled a warning for Spencer to settle down, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him on the bed. Spencer bent his head to nuzzle at Wolverine's hand as he whined and growled together. Deliberately he let his body shiver. The Wolverine responded to the playfulness by cuffing the side of Spencer's head to get him to stop. But he stopped trying to leave and instead curled around his 'pup' to both warm him and to be able to protect him. That was what Spencer had wanted.

It wouldn't take long like this, he knew. Not long at all. This wasn't the first time that Spencer had ever done this for his father figure. He kept a light mental watch and he felt it as the shift from Wolverine back to Logan started to happen. The hold on him didn't change, nor did either one of them try to move right away. Spencer felt Logan give him a brief squeeze; a silent acknowledgement that he was back. In response, Spencer sent a shielded thought, making sure their conversation was kept private from anyone outside the room. _/Back with me, Pater?/_

_/Back. Been a long time since I came back like this instead of locked up somewhere/_

That made Spencer wince. _/I'm sorry/_

He felt Logan shrug just a bit behind him. _/Not your fault. Now, come on, let's go deal with the shit storm that's about to hit/_

Shit storm was an understatement. Spencer didn't think he could remember seeing Scott quite so furious in his time here. But the man was livid now, and it was all for Spencer. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" He demanded when Spencer and Logan stood in front of him, outside the cell. "You could've been hurt! He could've killed you!"

The idea of that had Spencer wanting to snort, a reaction quite unlike him. He settled for shaking his head. "No, he wouldn't have."

"You don't know that!" Scott fired back.

Spencer didn't let him continue. He cut in before the man could get going again. "Yes, I do know that. Never once has the Wolverine seriously hurt me. He's pinned me, pushed me into a wall, or held me down, even bit me once, but he has _never_ intentionally hurt me. I know how to play submissive enough to keep him at ease until he can get my scent. Once he does, the Wolverine recognizes me. He labeled me as 'his pup' that first time that I met him."

"He's right." Logan said. He put his hand on Spencer's shoulder and stood at his side in firm support. "He's mine an every part of me knows that."

It wasn't hard to see just how difficult a time Scott was having with this. The others around them didn't look like they believed it either. Maybe it would be best to give them an example. "Once, when I was twelve, Logan got attacked when I was with him and he went completely feral. It was the first time I'd ever seen it. I had no idea what to do, no idea how to act, and I admit that I was scared. Wolverine turned to me and he was snarling, claws out, but he didn't charge." Spencer remembered how surprised he'd been there. How terrified. Looking back at it now made him smile in remembrance. "He started sniffing at me, checking me over, and then someone behind him moved and he spun around and I could tell he was _protecting_ me. He ended up picking me up and carrying me out of there. He got me someplace safe and defensible, and we stayed there for the next twenty four hours until the Wolverine finally relaxed and Logan could come back. Not once did he hurt me. The only time he got growly was if I pushed too much. So long as I was the submissive pup, I was safe. I've remembered that every time since then and I've always been safe with him. That probably helps, too. My scent never says I'm afraid of him. I trust them both; Logan and Wolverine."

Scott looked back and forth between the two of them before shaking his head and giving them an exasperated look. "I swear, he's definitely yours, Logan. He's got that Wolverine stubborn streak in him."

Logan grinned proudly. "Yep." Smirking over at his boy, he gave Spencer a squeeze. "C'mon, brat. While you're down here we might as well go pick up those new vitamins Hank wants you to take."

Rolling his eyes, Spencer nonetheless let himself be tugged down in the direction of the med lab. Scott fell into step with them and Spencer paid little attention as he heard the two discussing the girl that they'd brought back from the city from whatever they'd gone to do. When they reached the lab, a look around showed that Hank was still busy with the girl. Scott headed that direction, telling them "I'll let him know you're out here."

That left Spencer and Logan standing there together. Not for long, though. Logan tugged him in close in a one-armed hug and then let go of him. "I'm gonna go take care of some things, brat. I was just about to start talking with Chuck when I got called out. You good here on your own?"

At one point in time the answer to that would've been no. Now, Spencer smiled at him reassuringly and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be okay. I'm just picking up vitamins, not having any tests or anything like that. Is everything okay, though?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Logan reached a hand out and ran it over Spencer's hair, more a pet than a caress. His expression gentled a bit. "I'm just going to let them know to back off their questions, that's all."

It took just a split second for Spencer to connect what he was talking about. When he did, his eyes went wide. "What?"

"Don't worry, brat. I aint after telling any stories. I'm just gonna clearly let him know that he needs to lay off the questions and let you be. I aint gonna tell him why. That's no one's business but yours."

Relief filled Spencer so strongly he closed his eyes. "Thank you."

Another pet to his hair, this time a little firmer, and it was followed by Logan cupping his neck and giving a small shake. Then the hand was gone and he heard the man leave the room. Love and gratitude welled up in Spencer in equal measures. Leave it to Logan to take something like that on. Spencer should've figured that his father figure would have some kind of solution for him after yesterday's events. He always found some way to take care of Spencer. With a childlike faith that Spencer had never had in anyone else, he trusted that Logan would be able to handle this, and he pushed the thoughts out of his mind.

While he waited for Hank to finish with his patient, Spencer wandered, looking at the books on the bookshelf against the wall. There were quite a few up there that looked interesting. _I'll have to ask Henri if I can borrow them later._ He imagined the kind doctor would have no problems loaning him the material. It would give them another topic to discuss when they got together. Those discussions with Hank were one of the things here that Spencer really enjoyed.

The slightly raised voice and concern from his friend drew Spencer's eyes to the exam room window. As soon as he did, he found himself drawn into what he saw there. The voices weren't clear, but the body language was practically screaming. A young woman sitting on the table; she had to be the one Scott had been talking about. What her power was, Spencer wasn't sure. But he knew she was twenty one and her background was whispered to not be that pleasant. He thought he remembered them saying her name was Traveler. Not original, but, it was what she gave them.

The machine the woman was hooked up to showed that her heartbeat was becoming rapid. Even through the window, Spencer could see the way she was sweating. One of her hands was over her chest and was trembling, her chest heaving under that hand as if she was having a hard time drawing in breath, looking for all intents and purposes as if she was having a heart attack. Spencer could see exactly what was happening. She was having a panic attack.

He didn't hesitate to make his way toward the exam room. When he entered, he didn't pay any attention to Scott against the far side of the room. Instead, he was focused on Traveler and on Hank, who was at her side. "Henri, step back." He called out to his friend.

Hank looked up for a split second before looking to his machines. "What is it?" He asked, not stepping away, not looking up, but still obviously listening. He'd come to respect Spencer and his quick mind enough to listen when he spoke.

As the woman gave another gasping breath, Spencer reached forward and took hold of Hank's arm, stopping him. "Step back." He said seriously. His eyes were locked on the woman's. "Traveler." Spencer kept his voice calm and steady as he called out her name. Her wide, panic filled eyes lifted to him, locking on him. He could feel the panic radiating off of her. "Traveler, I need to know. Is this the first time this has happened to you?"

She dropped one hand to grip the side of the table, continuing to gasp, sweating even more. She shook her head no.

That told Spencer even more. He stepped closer but made sure not to crowd her and not to touch her. Their eyes stayed connected. "I want you to try and breathe with me, Traveler. I want you to draw a breath in and hold it for two and then out for two. I'm going to count for you. Now…one…two." He watched her draw her air in and try to hold it. "That's it. Out, one, two." He repeated this a few times, getting her in the rhythm. "Okay, now to four. You can do this. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three four." After a few of those, he upped it to six. With each breath he helped her draw, she regained more and more control of her breathing. The panic was still there, though.

"Would you like a glass of water, now?" he offered.

She took another steady breath. "Please."

Spencer smiled and moved to the sink. He didn't realize that he was being watched by the others in the room. All his attention was focused on the girl on the table. When he brought her back the water, he watched her take a few sips. "Traveler, would you like to move to a different room? In the main part of the lab is a comfortable couch I can highly recommend." The gratitude in her eyes was answer enough. Spencer stepped up and offered his hands, bracing her as she stepped off the table. Then he assisted her out to the couch. Once there, he helped her sit and then took the opposite side.

After a moment of allowing her to calm further, Spencer posed his first question. "Have you ever been diagnosed?"

Traveler nodded at him. "I…I couldn't afford treatment." She admitted.

"Panic disorders grow worse without treatment. I'll see what I can do about getting you the help you need while you're staying here. Cognitive behavioral therapy is the best solution, but until that starts, there are medications that can be tried that might help you some."

"I was on Valium before, until I couldn't get any money together. They used to help."

Nodding, Spencer shifted a little toward her. "I'll discuss your case with Dr. McCoy and we'll see what we can do for you. I take it that something in the exam room was a trigger for you?"

"The table." She gave a soft little shiver, eyes closing. "I, I can't stand the tables. The stirrups. I just, I can't."

She seemed so embarrassed by what she'd said that Spencer couldn't help his response. "I have panic attacks that are triggered by cooking fish. Not all seafood. Specifically fish." He said. When she opened her eyes with surprise, he gave her his little half-grin. "Yes, I know that it sounds strange. But I cannot stand the smell of fish cooking in any way. I've become better about the panic, but it still can rear up at me and take me under if the scent catches me off guard. There's no reason to be ashamed of this, Traveler, or of what triggers it. Panic disorder is just that; a disorder. "

She offered him a tiny smile. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." He smiled back at her. "Are you ready to go back and try this again? You don't have to sit on the table, I promise. Dr. McCoy won't make you do anything you're not comfortable with." He waited until she nodded at him and then he held his hand out once more. "Let's go, then."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later found Spencer, Scott and Hank all sitting inside Hank's office. It was where Hank usually took Spencer on the rare instances he was down here; he knew how little Spencer really liked the lab area. Like Remy, he was much more comfortable in the relaxed atmosphere of the office. Hank had noted it with both of them and found it rather telling. He said nothing on it, though. He wasn't the type of friend to pry.

Hank was grabbing water bottles from his mini fridge while Spencer and Scott each took to a chair. The field leader was looking at Spencer curiously. "That was quite impressive, Spencer." Scott told him honestly. He reached up and took the water that Hank handed him and then he looked back at Spencer, who was taking his water now. "You did really well with her."

Hank took a seat behind his desk, nodding his agreement. "Yes, you did. I was so caught up in the medical that I missed the obvious signs there. Thank you."

Slightly embarrassed, Spencer shrugged, sitting in his usual seat against the wall. Well comfortable in Hank's office now, he toed off his shoes and curled his legs up in the chair with him. "I'm a profiler. Reading body language is my job; we study human behavior. Not to mention that one of my BA's is in psychology. Though, I've been trying to do the work to bump it to a full doctorate. I think I'd like that."

Scott lifted one eyebrow. "One of them?"

At Spencer's blush, Hank started to laugh. "Yes. Our young friend does not advertise this, but he is quite intelligent."

Spencer shot Hank a look. "Intelligence cannot be accurately quantified." He stated, as he often did to people. When Hank rolled his eyes and shot him a look, Spencer sighed and gave up. If he didn't say it, Hank would. So he looked over to Scott and Charles and told them "I wasn't keeping it a secret. I just don't see the need to advertise it. I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words a minute. I have three doctorates—mathematics, engineering and chemistry. And I have a BA in psychology and sociology and have almost completed one in philosophy. As I said before, I'm trying to turn the psychology to a full doctorate."

"If I don't convince you to pursue one in medicine first." Hank countered.

That wasn't the first time Hank had teasingly mentioned that. Spencer shook his head and smiled shyly at the man. "There's no real call for a medical degree in my line of work."

"Have you thought about other work?" Scott asked.

The question threw Spencer a little. "Other work?"

Scott nodded. He took a drink off his water and then balanced the bottle on his knee, held loosely with one hand while he tried to discreetly watch Spencer's face. "Yes. With a mind like yours, combined with your powers, you'd be quite an asset to anyone. I'd snatch you up in a heartbeat if the opportunity was there. You'd make a great asset to this team, Spencer."

Heat filled Spencer's cheeks and he automatically dropped his gaze down. The shy gesture had Hank smothering a smile. Scott didn't even try smothering his. He let it grow, grinning openly at him. "You can't be surprised there, Spencer." He said with amusement. "You have to be able to see the good that you could do here with us."

"I've never really thought about it before." Spencer said with a shrug of his shoulder. Why would he have? It didn't really make much sense. There was no reason that any of them would want him here. Besides, he'd come here to rest with Logan, to heal, not to find himself a new job. He didn't need a new job. He loved being a profiler. It was all he'd ever wanted to do.

Hank and Scott both saw the debate running across Spencer's face and they knew now wasn't the time to press. They'd planted the idea. For now, they'd step back and let that quick mind go.


	12. Chapter 12

Time had never seemed to pass so quickly or so easily for Spencer. When he was in the kitchen one morning at the boathouse, he happened to look at the calendar and was stunned. It had been almost three months since he'd come here. That just seemed too crazy to him. It didn't feel like it'd been three months. Yet, at the same time, he sort of felt like he'd always been here. There was a comfort and ease here that he hadn't really felt anywhere else before. Despite the circumstances that had brought him here, despite the pain and fear that still lived with him daily, there was a part of him that had found one hell of a sense of peace. He found it with the new friends he'd made here. He found it with the feral who had been like a father to him for so long. And he found it with Remy.

The two spent almost all of their time together and Spencer found himself falling a little more and a little more with each passing day. Things that he'd sworn he'd never feel for someone else, he felt for Remy. His empathy didn't allow him the luxury of denying it to himself. Not that he really wanted to. This was something good in his life. Something wonderful.

The two had taken to sharing a walk at nighttime together as a way to sort of unwind from the day and for Spencer to relax a little and let out some of that tension that built as he tried to maintain walls that were still occasionally tender. Tonight, he was pretty grateful for the walk, having spent a good part of the afternoon cooped up inside. It felt good to wander and stretch his legs.

Looking at the slowly setting sun, Spencer felt more content than he had in a long time. It put to mind the conversations he'd had lately; with Hank and Scott, with Logan, and with Charles. All those offers of a job here, so honestly made, and all so very tempting in ways he'd been so very hesitant to admit to. Maybe it was time discuss it with someone else. Someone whose opinion he was starting to greatly value. Hidden by his bangs, he cast a look at the man who was strolling along beside him. Remy looked completely at ease as he walked at Spencer's side. Seeing how relaxed he looked had Spencer smiling a little to himself. It eased some of his own tension and had him relaxing once more. It also made it easier to start the conversation he wanted to have.

_/Sometimes, I wonder how I'm ever going to leave here/_ he sent to Remy along with his feeling of contentment. More often than not, Spencer and Remy spoke mind to mind. It was easy for Spencer to link to Remy's mind; they'd done it enough that Spencer felt the link starting to solidify between them. Nerves and fear kept him from allowing it to become open and permanent. He didn't want to create something like that and then end up leaving or having Remy leave him. That old fear was too strong to just make it go away.

Remy's arm brushed against him as they leisurely made their way toward the dock. _/Y' ever t'ink about staying?/_

The question made Spencer want to chuckle. _/I have, actually. Quite a bit lately/_ In quick, short thoughts, he summed up the conversations he'd had lately with the others, telling Remy all about the offers that he'd been given. When he was done, he added on_ /Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I love the people that I work with. But…all of this has made me stop and think in ways I haven't before. Is this what I want to spend the rest of my life doing? Living alone, being alone, only catching glimpses of a life outside of work? It was enough before, but now? I don't know. There are other things out there/_ The part of him that he was scared to let out wanted to tell Remy that he was one of those 'other things'. One of the more important ones. That he'd been thinking lately and he could see what life could be like for him now and he wasn't sure he wanted to return to work and lose this opportunity. But he didn't say that.

They stayed silent until they'd reached the dock. Together, they sat on the end, removing their shoes so that their feet could dangle in the water while they watched the setting sun. A nice, companionable silence fell over them and for a while they simply sat there, neither one saying a word.

After they'd been sitting for a while, Remy's thoughts traveled along the link to him. _/Y' sound like y' enjoy y'r job. Y' enjoy doing what y' do/_

_/I do/_ Spencer agreed easily. There was no doubt in him on that point. _/I enjoy saving people from the monsters. We may not always get them, but each one we do is one less monster in the world. Yes, there's always another to take their place. I understand that. But I feel like I'm doing a small part in keeping people safe so that they never know the hurt I know mankind is capable of/_

_/We do dat here, too/_ There was almost a hesitation to Remy's mind voice that surprised Spencer. He snuck a glance at his friend, but only found Remy staring at the horizon. Spencer waited, knowing his friend wasn't done. A second later, Remy's mind voice came again, still hesitant. _/We don't get de recognition dat others do, or de glory. If anything, we get shunned fo' what we do. Even when we save dem, de world still t'inks we're de monsters. Mais, what we do, it's important. So many lives are saved by our work/_

_/Yes, they are/_ Spencer agreed. He fixed his eyes on the horizon as well, enjoying the play of colors as the sun sank lower. _/Your work here is more important than anyone realizes. You all do so much for not just this place or this country, but for the world. You should all be proud of yourselves/_

_/De pay aint de best an dere's no real benefits like with y'r job. No guarantees on hours or even safety. Dere's good people, t'ough. We do good here/_

Butterflies built in Spencer's stomach. Was Remy trying to say what he thought he was? It seemed like too much to wish for. He couldn't seem to think of a response to him.

Suddenly he felt nerves grow from Remy. _/But Remy can see why y' wouldn't really want to stay here. Not like dere's anything to keep y' here. All y'r amis be at home. Y' got y' a life dere/_

In one moment of blinding clarity, Spencer saw the gift that was being offered to him here, if only he had the courage to reach for it. Realizing that took his own nerves and made them almost disappear. He turned his head to look at Remy, seeing him with fresh eyes. _/There are things to keep me here/_

Remy bowed his head a little and swung his legs, splashing his toes in the water, looking so uncharacteristically shy. _/Oui. Wolvie be here/_

_/More than just Logan/_ With this feeling in him, Spencer was braver than he'd ever been. He felt a smile curling his lips. When Remy lifted his head, Spencer let their eyes lock. Eyes that had been called demon eyes met eyes that had been called soulless. Something flashed between them that seemed to make them both glow a little. Spencer looked at this man and saw everything in the world he'd been waiting for, even if he hadn't known he'd been waiting. "You're here." He whispered out loud.

The nerves radiating from Remy faded away under a wave of joy. He watched as Remy smiled at him and the red in his eyes glowed like a fire. "_Oui_. I'm here." He whispered.

There were so many words that played in Spencer's mind; things that he could say in this moment. But none of them seemed right. So he did the one thing his body ached to do. Leaning in, he let their lips touch, soft and slow and sweet. When he felt Remy lean into the kiss, taking it a little deeper, his heart soared. _Here it is_ his mind sighed to him. _This is what I've been waiting for my whole life. Here it is, right here._

When they pulled apart, they were both smiling. "Cher." The endearment sounded so sweet on Remy's lips. "Does…does dis mean y'r…dat y'r…."

It was cute to see the Cajun so flustered that he couldn't actually speak clearly. That was a rare occurrence. In the time he'd known him, Spencer didn't think he'd ever seen Remy actually speechless. He took pity on him and lifted his hand, letting it brush against Remy's cheek. "That I'll stay?" He asked. "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

"On how you react to this." Spencer paused and prepared to do the most daring thing he had ever done in his life. "I think, no—I know I'm falling in for you, Remy LeBeau."

Joy and love lit up Remy like a beacon. Before Spencer could say or do anything, he found himself tackled, pinned down to the dock by the Cajun's body. Then he was being kissed with so much heat and passion that it overwhelmed him. Remy finally pulled back, peppering his face with little kisses. "Ah, Spencer, cher. Me too. _Moi aussi_."

Spencer brought his arms up, wrapping them around him and pulling him in for another kiss. The two were so wrapped up in one another that neither saw the figure watching from the boathouse, smiling at them. Logan held his cigar in his hands, putting off the plans he'd had of coming out for a nighttime smoke. He let himself stand there and watch the two finally admit what he'd known for days now. "About time." He murmured to himself. There was no one more perfect for one another than those two right there. They would balance each other out perfectly.

Scenting them on the air, Logan resisted a chuckle. He turned and silently went into the house, finding himself a pen and paper and scrawling a quick note to tell them that he'd be hunting and wouldn't be back till morning. Then he set off from the house; right now, he didn't think he wanted to be anywhere near the boathouse, if their scents were anything to go by. He'd give them their privacy for the night.

As he set off to the forest, he smiled.


End file.
